Recovery
by CardioQueen
Summary: Companion fic to Crash. Cristina and Burke recover from a devastating life event.
1. Chapter 1

_When life deals us a blow that alters our universe, recovery is key. To return to our prior level of functioning or greater is key in crisis resolution, but sometimes we have to settle for a lesser existence. In the act of settling for that existence, we consciously decide whether or not we're going to fight it along the way, or if we're going to lay down and accept it without question or reservation. Recovery is long. It's hard. It's brutal. Recovery hurts. More importantly, recovery heals. _

Cristina watched quietly as Burke laid her bags down inside to door of their apartment.

It had been 1 month, 3 weeks and 6 days and 8 hours since she'd been home last. It seemed different after being away for so long.

She took in the scent of her home, coffee mixed with that room spray that they finally came to agree upon a little over three months ago.

It was a little on the messy side, and she felt the overwhelming desire to pick things up for the first time in her life.

"Cristina..." Burke exhaled, draping his arms around her shoulders from behind her, "We're home."

She closed her eyes and leaned against him, tired and overwhelmed by the thoughts tracing through her mind. "We're home." she finally sighed, turning to look at him.

She errantly thought of the discharge papers granted to her only hours ago denoting that she was on restricted activity for another 3 weeks as Burke slowly slid her sweater from her petite shoulders.

Which meant no sex.

She stepped forward anyway, determined to test her limits, and pressed her lips to Burke's softly, her small hands tracing around his waistline to join in the small of his back.

He returned the kiss, his hands sliding up her back into her hair, he broke the kiss for just a moment, "Three weeks." he whispered heavily, kissing her again.

She felt her hopes plummet to the ground and pulled away, "You are no fun." she mumbled, and sauntered over to the couch, plopping down.

"And you are not completely better yet." He reminded her moving to the coffee maker to make her some coffee.

She ran her hands through her hair and looked at the books and papers in front of her, and her heart felt heavy with disdain for those papers.

They were transfer papers.

Papers that would officially end her career as a surgeon and begin her career as cardiologist.

Just a cardiologist.

She could be the best cardiologist, but that wasn't something amazing or great.

It was just average.

And Cristina Yang never settled for average.

"Have you looked at the contracts yet?" Burke questioned her, taking notice of her glances at the papers looming in front of you.

"I'm just not ready to yet..." she mumbled, hugging her knees close to her, "I just can't look at them yet."

He did not reply, but only watched as the woman he loved had an internal battle with herself over the papers. Over the sacrifices she was making, and the wounds were already obvious.

Wounds he wasn't sure he'd be able to heal.

He pushed the button on the coffee maker, and then settled next to her on the couch while the coffee began to brew, "It's going to work out..." he assured her, pulling her close and kissing her forehead.

She nodded silently against his chest, "I know."

She was quiet.

And she was lying.

She had no clue.

"Are you tired?" he questioned, "If you're tired, you should rest."

"I'm not a child." she retorted. Cristina looked up to him with apologetic eyes, she wasn't trying to take out her frustrations on him, nor was she trying to make him feel guilty.

He could see that she was upset, and he didn't know what to do for her. He couldn't think of anything to do for her at all, except for watch and wait for her to come around.

For her to recover from the blow that life had dealt her.

A/N: First one up. Lots more to come, this is just a tiny shard on the tip of the iceberg. This is going to be a LOOOOONG one. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Cristina tossed and turned in bed, her body aching, her mind wandering over the possibilities that lie before her and the dreams lost that she should put behind her.

She glanced over at the clock and saw that it was only 2:14 in the morning, she finally resigned to the fact that she'd never be able to sleep unless she tried, so she threw back the covers and pulled herself out of bed to blindly dig through the collection of bags that she'd brought home from the hospital.

Burke stirred gently as she dug through the bags and sat up in the dark, "Cristina...are you okay?"

"I'm fine...just looking for my meds, my sides hurting a little." she lied, finally finding the small package she was looking for.

"I put them in the medicine cabinet, do you need me to get them for you?" he asked, swinging his legs over the bed.

"No, go back to bed. I'll be back to bed in a little bit. It's just been a long day and you need to rest, you have to go to the hospital in the morning."

He laid back in the bed without protest and she disappeared into the living room, flipping on the light over the sink, and pulling a banana from their fruit bowl, tearing the skin off of it and tossing the banana in the trash.

She looked at the peel in her hands, and the suture packet that Izzie had brought her in the other hand.

She wasn't going to be just a cardiologist. She couldn't be.

She tore open the suture packet, and organized her forceps and needle, and went about threading the needle with some proline.

She wasn't going to give up her dreams because of a setback.

She laid out the banana and lined up two edges of it and began to go about putting it back together at the base, but her hands were weak.

Her memory was weak.

She forced the needle through the thick skin of the banana and stopped for a moment.

Was she supposed to go over or under?

Was it a double loop or a single?

She began to methodically work to figure out exactly how to do a reverse stitch, her wrists and arms aching as she worked to put the banana back together, but she couldn't remember the movements.

She couldn't remember the simple stitches taught to her only 4 years ago, she couldn't make her muscles go through the movements.

She simply couldn't do it.

But she continued to work at it, withheld tears of frustration burning her eyes as she poked the needle through the skin yet again.

She looked at the stitch she'd created in the banana and sighed, "I can create my own new stitch..."

"Cristina?" Burke stumbled into the living room groggily, "What are you doing?"

She tossed the banana off to the side and cursed herself for not throwing it in the trash as the needle caught her hand leaving, a tiny scratch. "I was...it's...it's nothing. I just couldn't sleep."

He looked to the discarded materials and knew exactly what she was doing, but didn't know what to say to her.

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Cristina.." he finally began but fell silent again.

How could he even begin to comfort her when there was no comforting her when they were in the exact same situation just a year and a half earlier?

"I can't even remember how to do a reverse stitch." she finally muttered, dabbing at the scratch on her hand with the sleeve of her pajama top.

He moved to her side, scooping her up into his arms, "You can learn again."

"It's a good thing that I'm going to be _just_ a cardiologist who doesn't have to know how to suture." her voice was cracking.

He wanted to reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but there were no words. "Let's go to bed." was the only thing that could escape from his lips.

"I'll be to bed when I can figure out how to do this." she replied, pushing him away. "You need rest."

He hung his hands at his side in resolve as she picked the banana and the needle again and began to work at it again, pulling gently at threads, pulling at his heart strings.

"I can't remember if it was over and right or under and left..." she mumbled, thinking aloud.

"You had head trauma, Cristina...it's not your fault."

"Look, you need to go back to bed, and I need to remember how to do this." she snapped, looking up to him as a tear escaped unbidden from her right eye.

She quickly dabbed it away with the back of her sleeve and focused on the banana peel, trying to maintain her composure.

He stepped around behind her and placed his hands over hers, "Over and right." he whispered, guiding her hands, piercing the banana peel gently, and pulling it through the motions that were programmed into her muscles just 2 months ago.

She nodded as he continued to help her until the entire banana was sutured, his touch lightening on her as she began to manuevar the peel better on her own.

She set down the forceps and needle, a sense of accomplishment, mixed with a sense of dependency deep within her.

"You did it." he mumbled, kissing the back of her head, as she focused on the skin of the banana.

"You did it." she muttered, walking back into the bedroom, leaving the peel on the counter with a piece of her shattered dreams.

The two of them had already been through the ordeal of one helping the other in surgery, and just the simple act of him helping her suture a banana peel was enough to wash up memories from that nightmare in their relationship that she thought she had neatly tucked away so long ago.

She fell into her side of the bed, her body racked with exhaustion and despair as Burke watched from the doorway, aching to give her hope, to give her words of encouragement.

He should've known the day that she gave into the idea of being something other than a surgeon so easily that it was too good to be true.

Cristina never settled for second best.

A/N: I'm putting out more tonight, don't worry. I have a lot of frustration to get out.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun shone brightly through the tightened blinds of their bedroom, piercing Cristina's deep sleep.

Her hand flew over to Burke's side of the bed and found it empty.

He had already left for the hospital without disturbing her.

She slid from the bed and walked into the living room to find a small note next to the coffee pot in his meticulously perfect handwriting.

"C-

I'll be back around 5 tonight. Call me if you need me.

I love you.

-B"

She let a small smile spread across her lips at the written I love you, and felt ashamed that saying it did not come as easily to her as it did to him.

She sat the note back down and walked into the bathroom to shower. She pulled away her pajama top and pants and stood in front of the mirror naked, examining the damage that the accident had left behind, never truly seeing it before.

She traced a dark pink scar down her sternum starting just below her mid-clavicular notch all the way down past where her Xiphoid process would've been.

Another scar marred her porcelain skin on the right side, a smaller one, maybe only an inch, and it was more faded, where the chest tube had been, then her hands drifted up to the back of her neck, where at least 5 inches of hair was missing on one side, on the underside of her thick mane from having two surgeries, as well as a spot that had soft fine short hairs where Shepard had shaved it away.

Her hand dropped to the small incision that lay across her abdomen, now nearly white and invisible unless one knew it was there. The skin was soft and shinier than the rest, and her fingers felt odd running over it, as she'd lost some of the nerve tissue in the area.

She turned on the shower, letting the water steam as she pulled at her hair with a hairbrush, trying to straighten out the mess of black curls that she was known for.

Her eyes were soft as she watched herself in the mirror, going through the motions of going back to normal, but she did not feel it.

The person in the mirror was not Cristina Yang.

The person in the mirror was weak, feeble, vulnerable, dependent. This person in the mirror couldn't be her.

She stepped into the shower, everything feeling surreal as she let the hot water trickle down her face and chest, reaching for her cherry and almond shampoo to wash her hair.

Her mind wandered to the papers on the table as she showered, thinking about her options.

She had sutured the banana last night, and she could remember the movements this morning.

Why did she have to resign to being a cardiologist.

Granted, the reverse stitch was only one of many, and it certainly wasn't a running whipstitch but that didn't mean that she couldn't learn them again.

She stopped for a moment, dropping the bath pouf to the floor of the shower.

It would take her at least a year to pick up the muscle memory again to do those stitches.

Her mind wandered back and forth between the possibilities over and over again as she dressed and stood in front of the mirror once again to pull her hair back from her face, only to realize that the missing hair was quite obvious once she pulled it back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck as a large chunk wouldn't even go into the clip.

She threw the clip at the wall in anger, sending it into two pieces and leaned against the cabinet.

Everything was different.

Unrecognizable.

She finally understood why Burke was so different, why he was so irritable and depressed after he was shot.

Why she couldn't get through to him.

She let out a long exhale and left the bathroom, grabbing for her bag and running out the door of the apartment.

She was not going to fight the motion of the ocean today, rather she was going to go with the current.

She pondered for a moment if she should call him before leaving the apartment, then shook her head at herself.

"You're only dependent if you want to be." she mumbled, and left the apartment.

The wind was bitter against her face as she walked quietly down the street towards her destination. She should've at least dried her hair before leaving, she thought errantly as she arrived at the small shop she'd seen a million times on her way to work.

She pulled the door open and was overwhelmed with the smell of hair dyes and perms, shampoos and fingernail polishes.

A plump woman behind the register with much too much make up on flashed a fake smile at her, "Can I help you, ma'am?"

"Don't call me ma'am." she replied quickly, then pressed her lips together, "Sorry. I just want to get my haircut...and I don't want to talk about it."

The woman looked as if she'd been smacked, but nodded curtly, "Follow me."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Burke walked into the darkened apartment, and glanced at his watch. It was 3 in the afternoon, she should've been awake by now.

His chest tightened and his heart rate increased as he approached the bedroom, afraid of what he might find.

A million possibilities raced through his mind as he pushed the door open. She could've had a PE, or another DVT, or an SVT.

She'd had so many complications in the hospital.

But the bed was empty.

He felt relief, but at the same time he felt angered as he searched their small apartment for any sign of her, and he looked to the counter.

There was no note.

He picked up the phone, his hands trembling as he dialed her phone number, but when he heard a ring coming from the bureau behind him, he calmly placed the phone on the counter letting out a deep exhale.

She'd been so much, he wasn't ready for her to be independent yet.

But he had to accept that his Cristina was his free spirit, it just wasn't always easy.

He took a seat on the couch, and placed his head in his hands, gently massaging his temples, trying to relieve the stress that was quickly surmounting in his body.

Moments later she appeared in the doorway, a couple of shopping bags in her hands, and a look of surprise on her face, "I thought you weren't coming home until 5."

"I got done early." he mumbled, not looking up at her.

"I'm sorry...I just went to go do some things." she mumbled, dropping a large bag from the local bookstore on the floor next to the counter.

He looked up to her to see that her long black curls were absent from her shoulders, he stood to meet her, and laid his hand against the back of her head.

She'd cut her hair shorter, so it fell just above her chin, the curls were still there, but the wild appearance they once gave was tamed.

"I tried to pull it back today, but Shepard isn't a very good hairdresser." she tried to joke. "So I got it cut."

He ran his fingers through it, but there wasn't much to run his fingers through, "It's nice." he mumbled, feeling as though a part of her was missing.

"Yeah." she sighed, letting herself lean against him for just a moment, then pulling away.

She picked the bag up from the ground slowly, her body aching from pushing herself too hard and placed it on the table, "I got a bunch of books today at the bookstore so that I could try to work on my sutures...I was thinking maybe when you go back to work next week that you could maybe pick up some suture packets and stuff for me."

"Cristina.", he started, his heart heavy with the news that the Chief had delivered to him today, "It's been too long since you've been out of the program."

She dropped a book lightly on the table, "Too long? What do you mean too long? I was in the hospital."

The dread in her heart grew, she knew what the contract was that she'd signed.

She knew the stipulations like she knew the back of her hand.

"You'd have to reapply to the internship program, and it'd be at least another 13 months before you could get back into the program..."

"This book is amazing." she started, trying to brush his comment from the back of her mind, "I think I could pick up on how to do all these sutures again in like, 2 weeks if you brought me the stuff."

"Cristina."

"And y'know, maybe I could talk to the Chief and he'd let me come back if I could prove myself...maybe just work in the pit doing sutures for a while."

"What about the 48 hour shifts?" he argued, "Do you think you're ready to handle 48 hour shifts after what your body has been through?"

She dropped another book to the table, a little harder this time. "There's got to be something that he can do. I'm the best intern he has."

"Had." Burke corrected her.

She dropped one more book to the table, causing the delicate glass top to break, a large chunk of it falling to the ground and shattering into a thousand pieces at her feet along with her newly purchased books.

"I'm not settling." she replied, her voice even and strong.

Burke was without words as he watched her, the resolve in her voice, in her will inhumanly strong.

"You expect me to believe that you're going to go 13 months without working?" he questioned her, his eyes falling to the glass shattered at her feet.

"I'll be working the entire time." she assured him, stooping gingerly to pick up the books.

He let out a long exhale as he watched her picking up the book, then brace her side, a grimace on her face, then he lowered himself to help her with the books, setting them on the counter, then helping her to her feet.

"Go sit down, I'll clean this up. You've done too much today."

She stood there, pushing a short curl from her face, "You have to stand by me, Burke."

His hands came to rest on her upper arms, his eyes connecting with her, "I would never leave your side, Cristina...but this won't be easy. For either of us."

She kissed him lightly and smiled at him with her eyes, "Since when have I ever done easy?"


	4. Chapter 4

Cristina had inundated herself with books, banana peels and suture kits spread across their kitchen counter.

She glanced back over to her reference book and back to her hands, trembling and cold. She had worn herself to the bone trying to remember all of the skills she'd acquired in med school in four years in four days.

Little blood spots and scrapes marred her fingers from the numerous accident's she'd incurred trying to suture perfectly through exhaustion, fatigue, and just the lack of ability to do it.

Silently she began to curse Meredith in her head, thoughts of calling her to tell her that she withdrew the acceptance of her apology running through her head.

Thirteen months.

That's how long she'd have to wait to take her shot at being a surgeon again. That's how long she'd have to stay home and suture bananas and wait for her day to be a star again.

That's how long it would be just her and Burke, with him working and bringing home the bacon and her just being there.

Dependent.

Vulnerable.

Weak.

Insufficient.

She tossed down the suture kit on the counter and pressed her forehead to her hands, frustration pulling at her resolve.

"Cristina?"

She looked up to see Burke standing before her, his eyes falling to the pile of sutured bananas, "Have you been up all night?"

She shook her head, "No, I've been up since..." her voice trailed off as she took note of the clock on the microwave. It was 6 am.

She'd woke yesterday at 7:30 am and not been to bed since.

He gathered up the banana peels in his hand and dropped them into the trashcan, throwing away all of her hard work, "You need rest. You can't do this for the next thirteen-"

"Thirteen months, I know. Actually, it's 12 months, 2 weeks and 5 days." she corrected him, her true neuroticism shining through.

"Which means that you have time to take time." he pressed, pulling her away from the counter and into him, "It means that you have time to heal and take care of yourself, it means that we have time to talk about us."

Her heart stopped.

It was the first time he'd brought up their relationship since the day that she'd 'committed' to being a cardiologist, to accepting her fate without fighting.

"What is there to talk about?" she finally uttered, unsure of what to say or where this was going.

Burke felt a heaviness fill him as he examined her, fidgeting with loose threads at the bottom of his Tulane shirt she wore, pulling at them and avoiding his gaze with everything in her.

He kissed the side of her forehead, "I have to go pick some things up from the hospital and write up some charts, I should be home by 10."

"At night?"

"No, this morning. But you should be asleep when I get back, you've been up for nearly 24 hours, you're going to end up with an infection again." he chided her gently, his hands snaking around her back to take hold of her petite waist.

She pulled herself away from him and nodded, "I'm tired."

He jammed his hands into his pockets, his ego bruised and wounded, "Yeah...I'm gonna go. Do you need help getting settled."

"I'm a big girl." she shot back, walking slowly towards the bedroom.

"I love you." he tried desperately to evoke an emotion besides anger or frustration from within her.

"Yeah."

It was to no avail.

He watched helplessly as she fell into their bed, pulled the blankets over her head and brushed him off. His glance dropped into the wastebasket and the bananas he'd carelessly discarded, not taking into account the work that she'd poured into them. He crouched down to pick them out.

There must've been 20 skins, and he examined each suture carefully. They were sloppy, disorganized and erratic, but the stitches were there for the most part.

He carefully separated them out into piles, and came across one banana, examining it closely, it still had the suture needle in it, as well as a small smattering of red against the yellow of the skin.

Then his eyes were drawn to the suture. The reverse stitch that he'd guided her through the other night. She'd obviously been practicing.

The sutures were clean, close together, organized. Perfect considering the condition that she was in just a little over a month ago, when there was no hope for a recovery to her premorbid level of functioning considering the amount of damage done, the muscle deterioration and the trauma to her brain.

But she was doing it.

He couldn't help but smile as he sat the peel back down on the counter and strode into the bedroom, settling himself on the edge of the bed next to her.

Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was uneven, erratic. Not the pattern of someone who was asleep.

"Fake." he mumbled, brushing a menacingly short curl from her face, another reminder that she wasn't the same anymore.

"I'm trying to fall asleep." she replied flatly, not opening her eyes for him.

He brushed his lips against hers, softly at first, then when he felt her respond he deepened the kiss, his hand trailing up her jaw line teasingly.

Both of their minds were drawn to the discharge instructions and exactly how much time was left before they could physically express their love for each other in a way that's always been perfect, that's always come so naturally for them that no circumstance could ruin it.

"Burke..." she breathed slowly, opening her eyes to meet his. "What was that for?"

He planted a cocky grin on his face and raised an eyebrow at her, "I said that I loved you."

She looked down at the blanket, "So that's what that was for?"

It wasn't the response that he wanted to elicit, but at the very least, she did kiss him back. "I saw your reverse stitch...it's good. It's very good." he finally replied.

"It's sloppy." she sighed.

He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it and watched as her eyes slid shut again, "I have to go...I'll be back later."

And he left, his heart aching to give her some sort of encouragement, for her to accept what he could give her.

A/N: Sorry the updates are coming slowly, I'm just working some new ideas for this in my head, and I want to make sure I can get it all to fit. :)


	5. Chapter 5

"Left, over, right, under, pull. Left, over, right, under, pull." she repeated to herself, working carefully and methodically, pulling the cold white skin of the chicken before her together.

She looked on in disgust as her far-and-near sutures began to look a jumbled mess and she threw down her needle and hemostat. "Bullshit." she muttered, falling into a kitchen chair to study one of the four textbooks she had open.

Her eyes traced over the pictures of the far-and-near, but she didn't see them. She couldn't see the suture.

She couldn't see it, and she couldn't do it.

She looked up at the clock on the microwave and saw that it was 3:30 and knew that she had about an hour and a half to perfect it before Burke would wake up and make her get some rest.

Cristina didn't understand why he couldn't understand that she didn't need rest. She was an intern, for God's sake.

Emphasis on 'was', she thought to herself, then picked up the suturing tools again, pushing the thought as far from her mind as she could.

She pulled the proline through the skin gently, mumbling to herself, "Left, over, right, under, pull..."

"It's right, under." Burke sighed, grabbing a cup from the cupboard and filling it with tap water.

"Sorry. I hope I didn't wake you." she sighed, pulling a pair of scissors to clip the threads, frustrated with the fact that she had to start all over again.

He sat the cup down after taking a sip from it and walked back into the room with no reply, not even a glance towards her.

She wondered silently for only a moment if she'd done something wrong, and shrugged it off going back to work.

Her fingers were calloused and ached from hours upon hours of suturing inanimate objects, trying to get her dexterity back, her feet were sore from standing on them for hours at a time, thinking if she just got a better perspective of her 'patient' that it would all come back to her. Her eyes stung from exhaustion, and her body ached with frustration because she couldn't put it all together.

She longed to return to the hospital, thinking that if she just put one more night into it, if she just restrained herself from falling into some sort of domestic trap, that she could just wake up one morning and be ready for work, and she'd be welcomed back with no reservations.

It was a long shot, and something highly unlikely, and whereas Cristina Yang did not typically result to daydreaming, it was no longer an option.

She couldn't just be forced to stay home for a year and do nothing except sit by and watch her life dissolve around her.

And she couldn't be forced to settle for a specialty that her heart wasn't in.

And she couldn't be forced to settle down and just be a wife.

She stopped suturing and glanced into the bedroom to Burke's form lying in bed.

Is that why she was pushing herself? she wondered, studying him closely, advancing quietly towards the doorway.

When she was in the hospital, all the talk of a future and everything was dimmed by the drugs, and the recurring fear of commitments she experienced were irrelevant lying in a hospital bed.

But now that she was home, and the future he'd pictured was more tangible to him then ever, she found herself focusing less on them, and more on work.

On getting back. On being the best again.

She shrugged off her doubts as just being tired and glanced one more time at him lying in their bed, and the thought traced across her mind that it looked so empty without her in his arms.

She moved slowly across the room, thinking that she'd just lie down for a moment, snuggle against him, and let him know that she was there.

Or maybe it was just because she longed to be in his arms again.

As she approached the bed, he stirred a bit, startling her and she abandoned the idea.

He was sleeping, and he didn't need her waking him for some sort of deranged emotional refueling.

More than that, she determined that she didn't need any kind of emotional refueling at all. She'd made it through med school by herself, why should she have to rely on some man to get her through this.

She picked up the suturing tools, glancing at the clock. She still had an hour before she had to give it up and go to bed at his request.

An hour was plenty of time to perfect this stitch.

And a month and no less would be plenty of time to learn them all over again, and be able to get back to work.

Then they could talk about them, only after she had control of her destiny again. Then she could allow herself to fall for him all over again.

But only after she was herself again and she would accept no less.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been three and a half weeks of long, sleepless nights for Burke and Cristina.

Cristina, because she obsessively sutured banana peels and had even stepped up her game to trying the chicken surgery that she once enforced upon Burke. When she wasn't suturing banana peels, she was watching surgeries trying to recall the vessels that lie within the human body within the same intricate parameters she once possessed. And when she wasn't doing that, she'd had her head stuck in a book about something to do with surgery.

Burke, because it had been almost three months since he was able to lie in bed next to the woman that he loved, scoop her up into his arms, brush kisses against her forehead, and let her know exactly how much it was that he loved her.

He'd wake in the morning, kiss her in passing as she went to sleep for very few hours and cook her dinner at night while she worked on her sutures.

Burke had a fantasy mapped out in his mind about what things could be like when they got home, and he never thought about realism. He never considered the fact that this was his Cristina, and his fantasy wouldn't apply.

He was going to get her better, get her strength back, and then he would pop the big question before she returned to work, and they would...

What? Live happily ever after?

He chided himself for such silly delusions.

In all actuality, they were existing in the same tangent of reality.

They were not living together.

They were not in a relationship.

He watched her suture, and she sutured.

Her replies to his questions were short, succinct, and to the point. She spoke very little to him, and blew off his requests...no, pleas, to take care of herself and to allow herself at least a little time to rest.

It was as if everything that he'd worked for in the past two years of their relationship had dissolved and he was left, trying once again to break past her tough outer shell, to find the real Cristina again.

But he feared she was too far gone.

"Burke..." her voice, obviously worn from exhaustion broke his thought processes.

"Yeah, Cristina?" he replied in a soft, saddened tone.

"I need more proline. And some more suture kits. My needles are getting dull." she requested, looking up to him for only a moment, then her eyes sinking back down to the banana in front of her.

He started to nod, and then paused for a moment, taking all the thoughts racing through his head into consideration.

"Burke? Did you hear me?" Frustration was becoming apparent in her voice.

Or was it desperation?

He calmly removed the food from the burner and went to her side, dropping on the couch next to her. His hands covered hers steadily, pulling the needle and banana away from her, and placing them to the side, "Cristina..."

She cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing in accusation, "I was doing something."

"You've been doing something for two weeks. You're not sleeping, you're not eating well, you're not talking to me..."

"I have to learn these sutures again." she protested, her lips pursed tightly.

"You know them."

"Not all of them."

"You have a year. A little over a year, you have plenty of time."

She looked to him, defiance sparkling in her eye and reached towards her project lying on the coffee table, and he grabbed her arms, pulling her to face him, "Cristina, you have got to snap out of this." his emotions began to erupt from within him, "You have to take care of yourself, you have to sleep, you have to eat...you can't just live in this existence, because if you don't slow down and take it easy, you're never going to make it a year. You're going to drive yourself into the ground."

"I'm fine." Her typical response.

"You're not fine!" He took her face in his hands, forcing her to draw her eyes to his, "You...are not fine. We are not fine."

She laid her hand over his, and moved it away, "We're fine."

"Cristina, two weeks ago you disappeared, cut every inch of your hair off that you could, came home with textbooks and I haven't seen you since. You've been here, existing. Breathing. But I haven't seen you. You haven't come to bed with me, you barely talk to me..." he sighed, grasping her hand once again. "You have time to make it perfect, you have time get through this. You don't have to do everything at once."

Cristina took in a sharp breath, and let it out just as quickly, still trying her best to avoid his penetrating glances.

Couldn't he see that everything in her world had completely spun out of control, and that she wasn't going to be okay until she had some sort of say in her life again?

Couldn't he see that she was hurting, and this was the only way that he knew how to fix it.

"Cristina..." he urged, his hand trailing up her arms to her shoulders, "Do you know that you've been home for almost a month? And for the first couple of days, you couldn't get your mind off of the three week rule, and now...it's passed, and you? You're too busy in your own world, doing your own thing to even be an active participant in this relationship."

"This is about sex?" she questioned, grasping at anything to make this his fault.

To take the blame away from herself and place it on him.

She wouldn't have another element be out of her control.

"This is not about sex." he countered, his grip tightening on her shoulder.

"Good." she muttered, shrugging him off and pushing past him to grab the banana. "I still need another suture kit."

He sat back against the arm of the couch, letting out a long exhale, "No."

She looked up to him, anger in her eyes, "I need another one. If I want to get back into the program, I'm going to have to get this perfect!"

"No. If you want a suture kit, you can go to the hospital and get it yourself." He stood from the couch and walked back towards the kitchen.

His body was pulsating with anger for her until he heard a stifled cry from her direction, and he immediately felt guilty, he fell back to her side, taking her into his arms, trying to make right what he had just wronged.

Or had he wronged anything.

She continued to confuse him.

"I can't do this..." she sniffed into his chest, "I can't take this all at once. I'm supposed to just sit here at home for 12 months...for what? To see Bambi, and Meredith, and Izzie, and Alex just fly ahead of me? I was the best."

"You're still the best." he assured her, running his fingers through her hair.

"No...I'm weak, I'm rusty. I've been reduced to a housewife who compulsively sutures bananas."

Burke couldn't help but smile at a glimpse of her personality breaking through this state of helplessness she'd found herself in. "You're not a housewife...not yet, anyway."

"We are not talking about this now." she warned, not looking at him.

He nodded slightly, and pulled her chin up so that she was facing him, her cheeks stained with tears, "You're doing better than anyone ever expected, but you are going to slow down."

"I am?"

"Let me finish. You can still practice, you can still study, you can do whatever you want, but you're going to take care of yourself first, Cristina. I can't watch you do this to yourself. I love you too much to sit by and watch you do this to yourself." he continued, his voice soft, but steady and commanding.

She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it as she contemplated the look in his eyes when she brought him a bag of chickens to put back together.

He didn't have the drive she had at first, but he was in the same dark place that she'd found herself in.

But she'd taken it to the extreme, but she wouldn't be Cristina if she didn't.

"I can still practice?" she questioned him, searching his eyes.

"You can practice." he repeated, staring back into her eyes.

"And you'll help me?"

"I'll never stop helping you."

She sat down the banana on the coffee table and leaned back against him, closing her eyes. "Okay."

He rested his head against hers, pulling her closer. "Okay."


	7. Chapter 7

Cristina let out a deep sigh as she tried to shrug off the feeling that she was giving up on getting better as she slid into bed with Burke at just a quarter past 9.

"I'm really not tired." she tried to worm her way out of the promise that she'd just made to take care of herself.

"Cristina." he warned quietly, pulling her close to him, his body pressed firmly against hers.

She closed her eyes, feeling his hot breath against the back of her bare neck, and she shivered lightly as she felt the first brush of his lips against her skin.

A smile crept across her lips, "That is not resting." she whispered through the darkness.

Part of her wanted to push him away, to get back up out of their bed, and continue pressing forward with retraining herself in the skill of surgery.

But there was a smaller part of her, a part that grew with every errant caress of his hands, or brush of his lips.

A part of her that just wanted to feel alive again.

His hand slowly slid up her thigh, to her waist, then dropped to her abdomen, tracing patterns over her stomach lightly, then trailing upward, "I can stop." he mumbled, as his fingers lightly teased some of the more intimate parts of her anatomy.

She took in a sharp inhale and pushed his hand away long enough to turn and face him, "Don't."

He pulled his hand away, ego slightly wounded, and the surmounting arousal in his body turned to tension. "You're right...you need to rest. We said you needed to rest."

She let out a sigh, "What? Now you don't..." her voice trailed off.

"You just said don't."

She let out a slight smirk, "I meant don't stop. As in keep going. As in...who needs rest."

There were no more words needed as Burke's answer was a hard and hungry kiss against her lips, to which she quickly responded.

As they spread heavy kisses over each other, they frantically tried to work out of their way out of their clothes, sending them across the room, to the floor, anywhere but obstructing their way.

Burke's hands traveled up her sides, sending her senses into overload as she was overwhelmed my his tender touch, she pulled herself on top of him, unable to resist him any longer, but he took pause.

"Are you sure you're okay?" His worry overriding his desire for a split second, worried that he may hurt her in some way.

She placed a finger over his lips as she moved onto him, "I'm fine." she assured him as he filled her depths.

She let out a soft moan as his lips came to her chest, kissing her gently at first, then more ravenously as he'd been hungering the taste of her skin for what seemed like an eternity, his hand dropped to her hips, grasping them tightly, moving her up and down against his body.

Cristina let her head fall back as she reveled in the moment of their love making, it had been far too long, and she had been far too selfish, and somewhat on the stupid side to deprave herself of this, she closed her eyes as she felt him kiss her in between her breasts then everything seemed to slow down a bit.

Burke froze, his lips coming to a halt over the scar that marred her sternum.

It wasn't something that had been there before when they'd made love, and it wasn't something that he'd seen too many times before.

But he knew it was something he'd but there.

The skin felt so different under his lips, his touch, and momentarily guilt overwhelmed his being because he knew in his heart that she wouldn't have that scar if it weren't for him.

Sensing his anguish, Cristina moved her fingers down his jaw line, and tipped his chin so that their lips met momentarily, "You didn't hurt me."

He nodded, pressing his lips together, and continued moving with her in the dark, his lips avoiding that area of her chest for fear that he'd freeze again, for fear that he'd relive the moment that he could feel her rib cage giving way underneath his hands.

After they'd finished she laid in his arms, still unclothed, their bodies intertwined with one and other, and she smiled inwardly, "I missed that."

"Me too." Burke replied absently, his index finger moving up and down over the incision that he may as well have put there himself.

She grabbed his hand, and drew it to her lips, kissing it. She wasn't sure what to say to make him feel better. "Are you okay?" she finally asked, penetrating an uncomfortable moment of silence.

"It's just that, I literally broke your heart, y'know that right? I did that to you? It wasn't Meredith, it wasn't anything from the accident. I did that to you, and it's hard for me to move past it."

Cristina couldn't begin to imagine the tremendous guilt that he was feeling, but if there was one thing she understood, it was medicine.

And the words came from her mouth before she even had time to process what she was going to say to make him feel better.

To take away his pain.

"My heart was not beating." she finally spoke, her voice steady, but detached.

Even for Cristina Yang, admitting that you were clinically dead was a scary thing.

"Yeah." he replied softly.

"It's more than just yeah, Burke. My heart wasn't beating. I wasn't breathing. I was dead."

"Cristina." he choked on her name, trying to brush it off, trying to forget it had happened. "I think you've established that you're heart wasn't beating."

She grabbed his hand and placed it palm down over her chest, "But there's more to it than that. There's more to it than my heart stopped beating and I was dead."

He looked at her curiously, his heart swelling in his own chest as he could feel hers through her chest, still beating rapidly, "What's that?"

"You didn't hurt me, Burke. My heart...you made it beat again."

A/N: A little bit of sex and fluff. It's those damn Kin clips.


	8. Chapter 8

The harsh shrill of the alarm woke Cristina from a deep nightmarish sleep and her hand flew down against Burke's chest as she woke with a start.

Burke jumped under her touch and looked up to see her sitting straight up in the bed, sweating lightly, seemingly gasping for air and his blood ran cold, "Cristina...baby, you okay?"

She couldn't get sick again.

She nodded her head, leaning against him, "Sorry...I didn't mean to scare you, it was just...y'know, the alarm scared me." deciding against telling him her nightmares of never being able to go back to work and just being his housewife for the rest of her life.

It made her heart ache that such a thing seemed like a death sentence to her.

He pulled himself up in bed next to her, and placed a kiss against her forehead, "I have to go to the hospital and do some things this morning."

"Will you bring me a suture kit?" she asked, her eyes lighting up a bit.

"I told you if you wanted another one that you were going to go the hospital and get it yourself." he sighed, wishing she'd lay off for just one day.

She looked at him, hurt apparent in her eyes, "You want me to go back to the place that I can't work at, and wander through the halls, stare at the surgery board, and go through the supply closet to get my own suture kits while you do what? A consult, a visit into the OR?"

He pressed his lips together, "I have to pick up some things and sign off some charts to Dr. Hahn so that she can follow my patients that were scheduled for procedures this week, and I have to establish my schedule for the next few weeks until I'm sure you're fine."

"I'm not a child." she muttered, sliding out of the bed and pulling his Tulane shirt from her body, searching for clean clothes naked and in front of him.

He swallowed hard and thought for a moment about putting in her in a better mood, but he knew that wouldn't help right now. "I never said you were."

"You think you have to take care of me."

"That's what a husb-" he cut himself off abruptly. "A boyfriend does." he finished, clearing his throat.

She looked up to him, hearing what he had said, and then turned away from him, pulling on a pair of pink panties, then pulling on a pair of worn jeans, pretending not to hear him.

Was he in some sort of sick fantasy land where she was his wife and he was taking care of her, and she was sick and feeble and vulnerable.

Reality seemed so twisted to Cristina anymore, she couldn't tell what was real from what was dreams and nightmares, time crawled by at a rate much slower than she'd ever experienced.

For the first time in her life she didn't have anything to do, and her reality was closing in on her quickly.

"I'm going to the hospital." she finally muttered, pulling on her favorite green sweater over a tank top.

He nodded, his face expressionless, his feelings hurt, his ego bruised.

Burke didn't know what was worse, knowing that she'd heard his slip-up, or the fact that she didn't even acknowledge it.

They'd connected last night, or so he thought. After they'd made love, he thought everything would return to normal, or as normal as could be. She'd even given him hope last night through words.

But now, he was beginning to wonder if it wasn't some sort of false reassurance.

His eyes followed her into the bathroom, as she ran her fingers through her hair, the mess of curls taming easily under her manipulation, and he felt more sadness pull at him.

He let out a long exhale and stood from the bed, following her into the bathroom, "Do you want to get some breakfast this morning?" he kissed the back of her head.

"No...I just want to go there and get back here. I didn't practice last night. I probably forgot half of everything I taught myself." she muttered, wandering away from him and into the kitchen.

A number of envelopes on the counter caught her eye and she fingered through them.

It was bills.

Utilities, rent, renter's insurance, car insurance, her bike insurance, her student loan company; all sealed and ready to go. All with checks made out in the appropriate amounts to the appropriate companies.

All of the checks from his checking account.

"Burke, what the hell is this?" she questioned him, her blood boiling with anger.

He caught her glance with an eyebrow raised, "They're bills, Cristina."

"But my bills...they're your checks, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You're pretty tapped out from the hospital expenses and I know that you wouldn't want to call your mom and ask for money...you're over reacting."

She threw the bills down to the counter and grabbed her bag, "This, Burke? This is what I'm talking about! I can't be this needy dependent woman. I can't let you pay for my bills, or handle my finances. I can't do this..."

It took everything in her not to break down.

She'd become the antithesis of Cristina, "You will not pay those bills, I'll handle them myself." she muttered, pulling at the door.

"Where are you going?" he questioned her, "I'm not ready yet..."

"I'm taking my bike." she replied angrily and pulled the door shut hard behind her.

"Cristina!" he called after her, yanking the door open again, "You can't take your bike!"

She spun on her heel to face him, "Really? I can't...do I need you to ride behind me to make sure that I'm okay? Do I need training wheels?"

He threw his hands down to his side in frustration and closed the door, his eyes falling on the bills on the counter, "Dammit."

All he wanted to do was take care of her.

A/N: Yes, there's more. And Beachcrew is mean. :)


	9. Chapter 9

Cristina sped down the highway, her neck exceptionally cold from the Seattle breeze encasing itself around her. She was used to her hair being there to shield the wind.

Nonetheless, she loved riding her bike anywhere, she felt free and alive, like nothing could hold her back.

Especially the four walls of their apartment, enforcing a cold reality upon her.

She shook her head angrily as she pulled into the hospital parking lot at the very thought of him trying to pay her bills for her. They'd had an argument about that, many many months ago that he would never try to do it again, as it made her feel like her mother.

She refused to live with Burke and sponge off of him as well.

Cristina Yang was a young, independent woman, and she wouldn't have some man just come in and start taking care of her and waiting on her hand and foot.

Something small and insignificant tugged at her, telling her that she wasn't being reasonable, that she wasn't giving him a fair chance, but she could see in his eyes that he thought she was weak, different, needy.

And she didn't want to be needy.

She crept towards the door of the hospital with trepidation, her heart rate and respirations increasing, she could hear her heart pounding heavily in her ear.

"Cristina?" a voice from behind her.

She spun to see Meredith jogging lightly to catch up with her, wearing her scrubs, and Cristina's heart sank.

Something inside of her wanted to see Meredith kicked out of the program and as pathetic and miserable as she was. Of course that wouldn't happen to Meredith, Ellis Grey was her mother.

And Ellis Grey was the best.

Cristina used to fantasize about the day that she would make names like Ellis Grey obsolete and when med school students would fantasize about becoming her.

"Hey, what's up?" Meredith questioned her breathelessly.

"I'm here." Cristina uttered at her, not even casting her a sideways glance.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. You're all dark and twisty, you'll figure it out." she sighed, walking towards the stairs of the hospital.

Meredith followed her, "You seem different."

Cristina spun to face her, "Okay, I thought you took the elevator."

"You're taking the stairs." Meredith argued, "I wanted to talk to you. I haven't talked to you since you got to go home..."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to talk to you for another year, because for the next year, while you're doing surgeries and moving on in your residency, I'm at home suturing bananas and chickens. Do you know why? Do you know why I'm not talking to you? Would you like to guess why?"

Meredith shrunk away from her, "You forgave me." she mumbled low.

"I retract it. Now, go use the elevator, and I'll use the stairs, and we can go about our business."

"Cristina, you're not being fair." Meredith protested.

"Do you want to discuss what's fair? Let's discuss the fact that you plowed into me while you were driving drunk and you are here at work, getting off with no more than a little fine, some suspension time and a slap on the wrist."

"Cristina..."

"Let me finish, Meredith. We need to discuss this justice that you claim I'm robbing you of...you were on suspension. For a month, but you came back to the program? Me, I was trying to die in a hospital bed, more than one time, and I've been out of the program too long and I have to wait a year to try to re-enter the program, a brand new intern all over again." she continued, her voice frantic with anger and dripping with venom.

"I'm sorry."

"Words. Details." Cristina muttered, walking away from her, leaving her 'best friend' to ponder her actions on the stairwell.

She moved towards the Chief's office, and was within feet of it, pondering everything she could say to him to get herself back into the program, to shift her reality back from one of chaos and disorder to one of normality and semi-happiness, but she froze.

What if he said no?

What if she angered him into kicking her out of the program permanently?

She needed to tread lightly through these unknown waters, maybe she could work on her sutures for just a couple more weeks, then try to prove herself to somebody, the Chief, Bailey...somebody that would listen to her for just a moment, would see that she wasn't weak, that she was ready to come back.

Her mind trailed to Burke, and his restrictions on her practice.

She longed for normality in their relationship, to return to that comfortable place that they knew so well. To return to the days where she almost enjoyed his nagging for something more in their relationship, though she would've never admitted to it.

There was only one thing she could do to get that normality back.

Even if it meant hurting him in the process.

A/N: I'm feeling angry and bitter tonight.


	10. Chapter 10

Burke sat quietly on the couch, his hands resting on his legs, staring at the clock.

He'd called her several times, he'd paged her, he'd drove around the city several times, called the ER to make sure that there wasn't a wreck.

It was as if she'd never existed, as if she'd disappeared from the face of the planet.

His heart sunk in his chest as the sun faded into the west, and the room darkened around him, though he was in a dark place long before the sun had set.

They'd been through so much together, they'd made it over so many obstacles, and though there were bumps and bruises along the way, for the most part they made it through stronger, more committed to one and other.

He feared that this time though, they would not be so lucky.

He silently cursed himself for not getting her a suture packet, for not mailing the bills the previous night, for not being more firm with her and for treating her like an invalid.

Why did she make it so hard for him to love her? Why did she fight it so fiercely every time he tried to show her that he cared, that he wasn't going anywhere, and that he'd do anything for her?

Questions continued to float through his head, and he laid his forehead to his palms, tension straining his head and neck.

He knew that she wouldn't be coming home tonight.

What he didn't know is if she'd ever be coming home again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Cristina turned pressed the button to the call-room door until she heard a satisfying click indicating that nobody could disturb her sleep.

The call rooms for the ENT department were set up much differently than the surgical call rooms, and she knew for a fact from the many times that Burke and her had occupied them on long call nights that they were rarely used if ever.

They would be the perfect place to focus on her work, and she wouldn't have to worry about the financial strain because the only thing she'd have to pay to do was laundry and some food, there were showers, there were ways she could sneak about.

And it was only for a couple weeks until she could prove herself.

Then she could go home, and she could go home a surgeon, and they would be fine.

She longed to call him, she'd sent his call to voice mails a million times, trying her very best to avoid the moment that would hurt her the most.

That would hurt him the most.

That could potentially end what they have.

So she continued to fantasize that he would understand, that he would let her go just long enough for her to rediscover herself, and then take her back no questions asked.

She laid back on the bed, her phone clutched tightly in her hands, tears slightly stinging her eyes, and she pushed the emotion away.

This was the beginning of her intensive retraining as a surgeon. Emotions were useless here, they would be tucked away, ignored and addressed at a later time.

She flipped open her phone and pressed the button to turn it off.

All emotions had to be tucked away.

She picked a banana from the small pile that she had, and pulled a textbook that she'd stolen from the surgical department and flipped it open to the near and far stitch. The stitch she'd nearly mastered the other night until Burke stopped her.

It was time to master it now.

She opened the suture packet, and threaded the needle, then inserted it through the thick skin of the banana.

Over.

She was over him for just a short time. She'd return to his side soon enough.

Right.

She was right. She couldn't be wrong. She knew that this would make everything normal again.

Under.

Right under his nose, he'd lost her. He couldn't see it coming, it just happened.

Left.

He was left in the aftermath of her self-destruction. Of her self-loathing.

And nothing would ever be the same.

A/N: I'm watching 'Oh the Guilt'. Blame it on the tv show.


	11. Chapter 11

Cristina lay in the bed in her call room, stretching her arms, rotating her wrists, doing everything she could to alleviate the pain that was overwhelming her.

She had pushed herself for the past 9 hours, suturing non-stop, finally mastering the reverse stitch, the near-and-far, and the interrupting stitches. Mastered, in her mind, but she would return to them after working on the next few stitches.

She glanced at her list she had made on a piece of paper lying next to her in the bed, 3 out of 7 stitches. She still had yet to master the mattress stitch, the interlocking stitch, the purse strings, and last but not least, the running stitch.

The running whipstitch.

The stitch that would make it all better, that would make it okay for her to return home, to find herself in his arms once again.

She turned on her phone to check the time, awaiting 9 in the morning to roll around so she could sneak into the apartment and gather some clothing, some shower stuff and return to the hospital unnoticed.

If she saw him in this moment, it would make her weak, and she had no time for weakness.

It was only 4 am, and she knew his phone would be off. That she'd be able to call him, and leave him a message and give him some sort of explanation, or at least let him know she was okay.

She dialed the number to his phone slowly, unsure of what to say or due, unsure of how she could keep her emotions neatly tucked away.

"This is Preston Burke, I am unavailable at this moment, but if you would leave a message, I will return your call in a timely manner. Thank you."

She closed her eyes, imagining herself in his arms, just the warmth of his voice enveloped her and gave her strength.

Purpose.

The tone brought her back to reality, and she began to fight for words, fight for an explanation that would make it okay.

But nothing came, her mouth hung open, matching the static silence of the other end of the cell phone, and moments later a computer generated voice reminded her that she hadn't left a message.

She pressed a button and pressed the phone back to her ear, listening for the tone once more, and when she heard it, she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, "I'm okay." she finally forced from her lips, her voice higher than normal, shaky, unsure.

She closed the phone, wishing that she could say the words that had come from her heart instead of the words that her mind regulated, but it was too late.

What good would it have done to say those three little words anyway?

They're just words.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Preston Burke lay in his bed sleepless, watching slowly as the minutes ticked by until he would have to awaken and go about his day.

Until he would have to awaken and face the reality that she really was gone, and that she may never be coming back to him.

She was so stubborn and head strong, exhausting, frustrating, competitive, relentless...why couldn't she just accept settling down, accept him as her future and let it go?

His heart ached with confusion and anger, sadness and guilt. Never had he doubted himself so much in his entire life, never had he been so ready to fight for something that anybody else would've walked away from years ago.

But how could he get through to her?

How could he be supportive of her?

He'd given her ultimatums before, scared her into taking steps for their relationship, but this was much more than a step.

This was more like a height up Mt. Everest.

He wouldn't ever dream of giving her an ultimatum, surgery or him.

Mostly because he was afraid of the answer he would receive. He was afraid of losing her. Fear was the emotion that had won over all the other emotions at this moment in time, though he knew it should be anger, or betrayal.

"Dammit." he cursed, grasping blindly for his phone in the night.

He needed to talk to her, try to get some sense into her, try to determine her thought processes.

He needed to know she was okay.

The phone burned at his eyes, the bright screen displaying that he had a voicemail, and he pressed the button to dial it up, his mind racing with thoughts, what had she said, was it even her?

Her voice pierced the silence of their bedroom, it was soft and shaky. 'I'm okay.'

He swallowed hard at the words.

Though she'd never admit it, she always knew how to say exactly what he needed to hear at the most inconvenient of times. Many times she'd failed him when it seemed like he needed her the most, but in those times of heavy denial, those times where he was convinced he could pull through on his own.

That's when she surprised him.

He replayed the message, as if there were an underlying secret to it, something that would clue him into what he could do.

After the fifth time, he sat the phone down and closed his eyes.

Thoughts entered and exited his mind quickly, ways to teach her the sutures more quickly, ways to get her back into the program, ways to bypass the stipulations of her contract.

Ways to get her home.

Burke sat up in bed and grabbed a legal pad and pen from the nightstand, his mind reeling with different ways he could get her back into the program.

She might've pushed him away, but he was going to work harder than ever to bring them back together.


	12. Chapter 12

Cristina watched from around the corner as Burke climbed into his car, pausing to search his surroundings as if he could sense her presence there. He looked sad and exhausted, and her heart ached to be with him for only a moment, then she cursed herself and tried her very best to return to her steely resolve.

Her edge.

He pulled away and she waited a few more moments before she pulled her bike around the corner and parked in a far parking spot behind a large truck that belonged to someone who was obviously overcompensating for some shortcomings.

She moved through the darkness as if she expected him to come back, looking for her. As if he would know that she'd be there.

When she arrived in the apartment, she felt her edge slipping and decided that she'd move as quickly as possible, grabbing whatever she could to get through the next couple of weeks.

Clothes, toiletries and books were tossed into an overnight bag in a manner that was classically Cristina, and she did a once over of the apartment to make sure that she wasn't missing something.

She was missing him, but she couldn't take him with her. She had to leave her emotions, her feelings for him, here in their safe place, and forget about them.

She pulled her phone charger from the wall and jammed it in her bag on top of everything else and as she was leaving her eyes caught a glimpse of a yellow post it note on the counter.

C-

Please come home.

We can work through this together.

I love you.

-B

She pulled the note from the counter with a heavy heart and let out a sigh as she went to place it in her pocket, then stopped.

She had to leave him here.

She crumpled the paper up in her hand, and dropped it into the trash can and slipped out the door quiet and unnoticed.

Her ride back to the hospital was difficult, her heart battling for her to drive home, crawl into their bed and sleep, her brain reminding her that she would only be average if she gave up, and she'd never make a name for herself.

And as always, her brain won the battle as she pulled into the farthest corner of the parking lot and she quickly made her way to a basement entrance of the hospital where she would have to hide out during the day.

There was a vending machine down there where she could grab a quick bite, and a soda machine, she would've preferred coffee, but she'd have to reserve that to late night visits the ENT clinic to pilfer off of the coffee machine set up for the patients.

She tossed her bag onto an abandoned broken hospital bed tucked in the corner of a musty room and pulled a suture kit from her bag.

It was time for her to master the mattress stitch.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Burke checked the hospital call rooms thoroughly, sure that's where she'd be hiding out but he found no signs of her.

He grew more and more frustrated and despaired as the hours passed without her, and he was concerned because he knew that she wouldn't take care of herself and no good could come from her new found antics.

As he passed through the surgical unit, he spotted Meredith out of the corner of his eyes and his frustration swiftly turned to resentment.

"Dr. Burke.." she took notice of him as well and ran to catch up with him.

He walked away from her, knowing that a confrontation with her would be ugly in this very moment and he wasn't ready to make a scene.

Not yet.

"Dr. Grey, I highly recommend that you leave me alone." he muttered.

"I saw Cristina."

He stopped in his tracks, "Where? When?"

"Yesterday morning...she was really upset, I didn't know if there was something going on between you two. I know she's upset because she can't come back to work, and I apologized, and I know she has every right to be angry with me. But I'm just worried about her."

He bit his lip, drawing up every bit of will power left within him to restrain himself from doing or saying something he may regret in the long run.

He had to save face for Cristina.

"She's not fine. And we're not fine. Go back to work, Dr. Grey. Cristina can't, and if you ask me? Justice was not served appropriately." he finally uttered at her, his eyes flashing with anger.

Meredith looked down at the ground, "Fine. I'll quit the program, is that what it's going to take? Is that what it's going to take for everything to get back to normal?"

"It would take much more than that, Grey. Excuse me."

He walked away from her, saving face for Cristina.

Saving face for himself.

He had work to do, and if he got too personal before he could execute, his plan would never work.

And it had to work, or he'd never get his Cristina back.


	13. Chapter 13

Cristina looked down at the dummy arm in front of her that she'd taken a box cutter to, placing multiple lacerations to it, suturing and resuturing the lacerations with the mattress stitch.

When she was satisfied that nobody could do it better, she replaced it in the heavy black leather bag and slid it under the bunk bed of the call room, content with the work she'd done.

She glanced down to her cell phone and saw that it was 3 am.

Pondering for a moment, she picked up the phone and slowly punched in his numbers, and hit dial, listening for the sound of his voice, a temporary replacement of the feeling of his arms wrapped around her waist and a kiss gently placed on her forehead before she could rest.

The tone alerted her that it was her time to talk and she smiled to herself, knowing he'd be content with the words, and she spoke into the receiver, her voice soft, "I'm okay." and she clicked the phone shut, lying back in the bunk, the phone clutched tightly in her hand.

Her body was worn and weak from the previous two days already and she wondered to herself how she would make it through the next couple of weeks, preparing herself to go back to work, to fight her way back into the spot that was rightfully hers in the internship program.

'I can handle this.' she thought to herself, letting her eyes slide shut, 'I am Cristina Yang, the best intern at Seattle Grace Hospital, and this is a breeze. This is cake. I can handle this.'

She opened her eyes to program the alarm clock on her cell phone for 9 am, thinking to herself that she couldn't allow herself to rest too much if she ever expected to return home in a decent amount of time.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Burke sat on the couch in silence, a crumpled piece of yellow paper being compulsively smoothed out in his hands as he found himself in deep thought.

What was it about this girl that he sat here restlessly, wishing for her to come home.

Part of him wanted to just be over her, to be over the relationship, to forget she ever existed and move on from it.

To quit causing himself so much pain.

But a greater part of him, focused on what could happen when she came home. The greater part of him knew what it was like to have his career and everything he'd worked so hard for in his entire life at stake and to have to work through it.

Except when he worked through it, she was at his side, and she stuck. She was there for him in a way that was uniquely Cristina, even if it ended badly, it brought the two of them together.

He couldn't imagine how this though, could bring the two of them together.

He picked up his cell phone sat beside him and longed to hear the sound of her voice again, even if it was a saved message.

Even if it was a message that just contained two simple words. But somehow, those two simple words had the power to set his mind at ease.

If the words were something else, 'I'm fine.' or her dreaded 'I love you.' he would worry, but somehow the words 'I'm okay.' were reassuring to him.

The display flashed on, and he noticed a tiny symbol in the top right hand corner, a beacon in his darkness.

He had another message.

He listened quietly, his ears longing to hear the sound of her voice, and a small smile crept across his lips as he heard the words, 'I'm okay.'.

A small chuckle escaped him as he thought of her ruminating on what to say the first time, but after finding that the words 'I'm okay.' came easily to her, she'd set her mind on that.

He also knew that he could count on that message from her on a nightly basis from now on, or so he thought as he shut the phone off and placed it back on the coffee table.

Burke stretched his legs over the couch, laying back against a throw pillow and allowed himself a minute amount of sleep.

He'd never really slept on the couch before, he'd never had a reason to, but somehow his bed was too empty and it felt too strange to sleep in it without her after having her there for so long.

His mind wandered as he thought of her, and the different ways he could help her. He pictured her in his mind, sitting in a call room, piles and piles of fruit and chicken around her, suturing like a mad woman, trying to work herself up to the best intern that she could be, all while reading textbooks to brush back up on her pathology and gross anatomy.

If only he could write a textbook about love and belonging, support, and relationships in terms that she could easily relate to and commit to memory like she did with science.

That'd be easier.

But then again, he wasn't sure that he'd had the art of their relationship mastered to a science yet, especially with all of the wrenches thrown into theirs.

He ignored the fact that it could be fate warning the two of them that the relationship was a bad idea, and he maintained the fact in his mind that he'd found his soulmate, and he'd get her back no matter what the cost.

A/N: Okay, I think that's it for tonight. My cold medicine is finally kicking in and I'm pretty tired. That's what, like, 5 or 6 chapters in one night. You should love me by now. And if you don't? You never will. :)


	14. Chapter 14

For the next week, Cristina had mapped out a routine, at 5 in the morning, she would disappear to her hole in the basement with her dummy arm and bags intact to sleep for 4 hours, then wake up to start suturing, and she remained there until well past 9 at night, when she was sure that everybody from ENT was gone, then she'd saunter back upstairs, make coffee in the clinic, and return to suturing her dummy arm.

And every morning at 4 am, she would call Burke just to let him know that she was okay, and every morning, the sound of his voice was soothing enough to calm her down and prepare her to start her day all over again.

Except for this morning. This morning was different.

She'd gotten her coffee before she called him, and returned the room, leaving it unlocked, figuring she'd be gone before anybody might try to enter.

And she called him, waiting impatiently to hear his voice on the other side of the line.

She didn't get his normal message, the message asking for her to leave a message, no instead she gets, "Cristina, I can't do this anymore. Please come home." his voice soft and weary, not the strong voice asking for a message.

She wanted to tell him that she was okay, to keep up the facade for just a little longer, but the words slipped from her mouth before she could stop herself, "I can't."

She hung up the phone, then cursed herself, realizing she could've erased the message, started over.

If only the past were that easy.

Then what would she do? she wondered to herself. Quit making things so difficult for the man that loves you? Quit trying to be the best and simply settle for being his.

No, that would not work for her.

Cristina Yang had resigned herself to a few weeks of a miserable existence containing sutures, numerous cups of coffee and bad vending machine food. The phone calls with Burke, if that's what one could call them were not planned, but they were a welcome reprieve for the temporary life she'd chosen.

"Dammit." she cursed him for changing his message.

She rose from the bed to start gathering herself, and the room spun around her and she thrust her arms out to the bunk bed, trying to steady herself, but to no avail.

She fell to the ground in a heap and her world faded to black around her.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

'I can't.'

He listened to it over and over again.

She couldn't.

She wouldn't.

She can't.

He looked at the clock and saw that it was five and time for him to return to his first full day of work. He was dressed, ready to go. But he wasn't prepared.

He wasn't prepared to go back without her.

And now her words weighed heavily on his mind, 'I can't.'

If she'd only said 'I'm okay.' then his mind could be at ease, he'd know that she was okay, not fine, not hurt, not sad, but okay.

He had a nagging feeling in the back of his head, and brushed it off as an intense preoccupation with just wanting her back. Wondering how her plan was coming along and if she was even close to coming back preoccupied most of his waking thoughts.

He didn't focus on the future anymore, nor did he even give the slightest thought to the purchase of a ring, or the formation of the perfect proposal. He used to secretly daydream of those moments, and the cocky characteristically Cristina answer she'd give him.

'Whatever.' was his favorite possibility, quickly followed by, 'This will make 'your momma' happy.'

But that was a long time ago.

The ride to work for him was a solemn one, thoughts running through his head of the plans that he'd formed, the execution just a few miles away. His heart rate increased slightly, thinking of what he could say to make it better.

And what he could tell her if the plan worked.

But there was that nagging feeling at the back of his mind that told him that his plan just wouldn't matter today, but he pushed it away, ever the optimist and continued on his path.

He made his way towards the door, going over the words he'd use, the things he'd say to get her job back when Miranda Bailey approached him at an alarmingly rapid rate.

He knew that the nagging feeling was about to be defined, "What's wrong with her?"


	15. Chapter 15

Burke followed Bailey as they strode rapidly through the halls, "I haven't seen her for about two weeks." he admitted quietly to her.

Bailey stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, "She left you?"

"In a sense, but no."

"I don't understand that girl, and I don't pretend to understand how you deal with her, nonetheless, whatever she's been doing, she's fairly malnourished, and very dehydrated." Bailey sighed, continuing to Cristina's door. "Do you need me to come..."

"No, I'm fine. Thank you, Miranda. I appreciate you coming to find me." he nodded, then pressed his lips together, "Has she said anything...to you, about us?"

"Not a word."

He let out a sigh, "Okay. Thanks again."

His eyes followed the lines on the ceramic tiled floors to the edge of her bed, then to the bed linens lazily draped from the bed itself, then to her legs, up her abdomen, her chest, to her neck, and her face, but he could not meet her eye.

"Burke..." she sighed, looking away from him.

He went to her side, shoving his hand in his pockets, standing over her, "Bailey found me...she told me that you collapsed in a call room."

"I just fell. I didn't collapse. I tripped over my own two feet and fell." she lied, feeling guilty for not taking better care of herself.

Her body was worn away, and she must've lost about 15 pounds, he'd noticed, sadness encroaching on him. Her skin was dry and dull, not the beautiful glowing porcelain color that it normally was, and her eyes had lost their light...their spunk.

All in two weeks time.

"You're dehydrated and malnourished. I'm more than 100 sure that the only water you've drank in the past two weeks is the water that you get while you brush your teeth." he mumbled, hands still in his pockets, fidgeting with the corners of him.

He ached to touch her, to hold her, but she seemed different to him, stand-offish. Closed.

"I drank water." she shook her head, "I felt fine."

"Fine is never good, Cristina."

"Whatever." she muttered, finally turning to face him, "Look, don't you have to work today?"

"Not now, I'm staying here with you. What happened to you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, you're my girlfriend, and I care about where you've been sleeping, how you've been managing. That's what I'm supposed to do." he frowned at her, "I love you, Cristina. I want to know that you're okay."

"I've told you that I'm okay every morning for the past 2 weeks." she argued.

"Words." he sputtered, "That doesn't mean that I know where you're at, that you're safe, that you're taking care of yourself, that you're not pushing yourself too hard. It's my job to protect you, Cristina!"

"I am not your child!" she snapped. "You lord over me like I'm breakable, vulnerable, dependent, I am not a child, I'm not breakable, and I'm certainly not vulnerable. If you can't understand that, if you can't accept that, then I guess you just need to go."

It hurt her to say such words to him, and she could see the hurt in his eyes, but she had to push him away, she had to get better, and finish the stitches. She had nearly mastered the purse string, and that left her with the running whipstitch.

Her heart began to rationalize with her head, thinking she didn't even have to know the stitch technically for another 3 years, and that was more than enough time to learn it, and then she could go home with Burke.

But her mind intervened, reminding her that not knowing how to do it was average, and she wasn't average.

Then her heart, saying that he taught her the first time, he could teach her again.

Burke watched as she seemed to process many thoughts, and finally reached out to grab her hand, "Cristina. Come home with me."

She looked up to him, her eyes saddened, but she was so dehydrated she didn't have to worry about the possible loss of tears in front of him, "I can't come home."

He sat on the edge of her bed, her hand still tightly clasped within his, "Why?"

"Because I have to get things sorted out before I can come home, and I was so close..." she trailed off. "I just can't."

"I can help you." he pressed, trying to break her will.

"I don't need you." she pulled her hand away.

She didn't mean it, but she knew that it was the only way that she could get him to back down, to get him to let her go long enough to get it all under control.

"I just don't need you, Burke." she continued, trying to add anger to her voice, but too exhausted to do so.

"I don't believe that." he interjected. "I don't believe it for a moment."

"Well, nobody said that denial was a pretty thing." she sighed, looking up to him, "I don't need you anymore."

She began to feel the words and the meaning behind him.

"I need you." he argued, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders.

She looked up to her, anger intensifying in her eyes, stubbornness in her mind overruling the emotion in her heart.

"I don't need you."

A/N: That's probably all for tonight, just because I'm about to go find the bottom of a bottle of vodka, but rest assured, that my mother in law is coming over tomorrow, so I'll have lots of negative energy to focus into writing more. :)


	16. Chapter 16

'I don't need you.'

Her words ripped through his heart like a dull butter knife as he stalked down the skywalk of the hospital.

His mind drifted back to a time where he'd said nearly the same words for her. 'I don't need you for this.', he'd told her after she'd put so much effort into helping him get back to his level of functioning prior to being shot.

But he'd said 'for this'.

She merely said, 'I don't need you.'

"Dammit." he cursed under his breath as he reached Webber's office, his mind racing with the things he'd planned to say.

But her words continued to grind down his confidence, sear through his soul and leave him feeling like nothing more than a bumbling idiot, he placed his hand on the door anyway, poised to fight for Cristina.

"Chief, I need to talk to you."

Webber looked up from his desk, peering over a pair of dark rimmed glasses, "Preston, I heard about Cristina, I'm sorry. Is she going to be okay?"

"No."

Webber sat down his pen and pushed away the papers he was looking at, "Oh really? I thought she was just dehydrated. Did they find something else?"

"No." he repeated.

"Then what's going on?" Webber questioned, his eyebrow raised in question.

Burke took a seat in front of him and put his hands against the desk, "Let her come back."

"She can come back in 11 months with the new interns, Preston. We've been over this." he sighed, folding his hands together impatiently, "She could still be a second year resident if she would've joined up with the cardiology program as recommended, but she's too arrogant for her own damn good, so she'll have to wait."

"No, let her come back now. She's ready. She can handle it, it's not fair to her that she has to start the program all over again.", he protested.

"And she'll be a second year resident again, but she'd be nothing more than a liability to this hospital if she came back now."

"A liability? Richard, do you want to talk about liabilities? Because I assure you, Cristina would be the least of your worries in that department."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Webber questioned him, folding his arms across his chance, his eyes glowering with anger.

"Let's talk about Meredith Grey if you want to talk about liabilities."

"You're out of line, Preston."

"No, you're out of line." Burke interrupted him, rising to his feet. "Meredith Grey drove under the influence of alcohol, her BAC was twice the legal limit, she nearly killed Cristina, and she got away with a small fine to the MRB, a small suspension, and a six month probation within the hospital."

"She was punished, she is being punished for her actions, but this has nothing to do with Dr. Yang." Richard shot back, rising to his feet as well.

"And what's Cristina being punished for? Is it because her mother isn't a world renowned surgeon, or is it because you never slept with her mother?" Burke questioned, not the slightest amount of hesitancy with his words evident.

"Get out. I expect to see you back at work on Monday morning, and in that OR doing what I pay you to do. There is no more time off for you, no matter what the circumstance. Cristina Yang is a girlfriend, she's not family, she's not your wife, and I've been lenient with you up to this point and taking time off to take care of her. No more." Webber motioned to the door.

Burke pressed his lips together, and turned away from Webber, "Yes sir."

As he exited the office, he shot one more glance back at the Chief, who was still staring him down, and shook his head.

"I do what's best for my hospital, Preston. You'd do well to remember that." he lectured.

"I do what's best for Cristina, Richard. You'd do well to remember that." he answered quietly and pulled the door behind him.

He processed her words through his head over and over again, and paused on the skywalk to look at the families below, trying to remember Cristina before all of this happened, when she was still stubborn, when she was still arrogant, but when he could look into her eyes and see a woman that loved him with all of her will, even if she wasn't able to admit it.

He let out a long exhale and started back towards her room.

He was going to fight for her.

Even if she didn't want him to.


	17. Chapter 17

Cristina looked up to the ceiling, her fingers pulling at her IV line absently as she ruminated on the words she'd let slip from her lips on a false pretense.

She'd pushed him away yet again, and she feared that one day she may push hard enough that he'd never come back. That he'd quit trying.

That he'd finally give up on her.

Silently she cursed herself for being so driven, but she'd come so far at this point that there wasn't any turning back now.

She'd just have to make it up to him somehow, any way she could after she got back into the program.

"Cristina?" his voice invaded her thoughts.

She turned to the doorway to find him standing there, a brown paper sack in his hands, "What are you doing here?" she asked quietly, then turned away from him, "I said I didn't need you."

He took a moment to watch her from the doorway, gathering his thoughts and steeling himself against her empty defenses. Then sat himself on the edge of her bed, and pulled her hand into his, "I don't believe it for a second." 

She caught his eye for a moment, vulnerability flashing in them as he clasped her hand in his. She couldn't let him do this to her, not now. She was too tired and exhausted to fight his affections and if she caved now, she'd never be able to get the strength to finish what she'd set out to do.

She pulled her hands away, "I thought we already went over denial."

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around her, "I don't believe you, I won't believe you, and you're going to stop this." he continued.

She fought him for only a few moments and fell into his chest, her resolve shattering, "Burke, I can't do this with you..." she closed her eyes tightly, tears stinging at her eyes.

"You will do this with me."

He felt her body start to shake gently within his arms as she wept into his chest, and it took everything in him to remain strong for her. Too see her in such pain, to see her spirit so broken was too much.

It was easier seeing her after the accident than it was to see her like this now.

They sat in silence, him holding her quietly until her tears had run out, until she was strong enough to face him with tear stained cheeks and reddened eyes, "I can't..." she whispered, shaking her head.

"The Cristina Yang that I know doesn't give up. She's strong, stubborn, bull-headed. She puts passion into everything she does, and is the most amazing woman is the world." he mumbled, wiping a left over tear from her cheek, "You can do this."

Cristina's gaze dropped to Burke's chest, as she fought for a reply, something to say to him to make it all better, to make this nightmare end.

But there were no words.

Despite the fact that she was consistently afraid of commitment, despite the fact that she had ripped his heart out and put it in a blender time and time again, despite the fact that when she needed him the most, she pushed him away, he was still there.

Loving her.

Taking care of her.

He was still there.

She let out a long exhale, and just nodded slowly, unable to catch his gaze, for fear of losing control of her emotions again, chiding herself for crying in the first place.

She was tired of being weak.

"I brought you something." he finally spoke, breaking the silence, reaching for the bag that he'd brought with him and presenting it to her.

"What is it?" she questioned, her voice light.

He placed the paper sack in her lap and rose from the bed to close the door of the room as she took the brown paper sack in her hands.

"Are you going to open it?" he asked, returning to her side, studying her running her fingers over the rolled up top of the bag.

Cristina looked up to Burke, frustrated with him, frustrated with the fact that he was so irritatingly kind and loving to her even though she was cold and just plain cruel to him in the past two weeks.

"Why?" she finally asked him.

"Why what? Why do I want you to open it?"

"No...why do you stay?" her voice trailed off, barely audible. "I push you away...and say things that nobody would ever want to hear, and you stay."

He tipped her chin up so that she would look at him, "I stay because I love you, Cristina. I stay because I know you need me as much as I need you. I stay because when I'm weak, you're strong for me, and when you're weak, I can be strong for you."

"You don't have to be strong for me." she interrupted.

"Let me finish." he pressed a finger over her lips, "I stay because I would rather spend the rest of my life in angry silence with you by my side than be alone, and I know that one day, you'll stop being so stubborn and accept that." he finished, then pushed the bag towards her, "Now open the bag."

Her eyes dropped to the brown paper bag, and she tugged at the curled handle of it, pulling it open and reaching inside to grab the contents.

It was bananas and suture packets.


	18. Chapter 18

Burke studied the wall absently as Cristina signed discharge forms for Debbie, listening vacantly as she lectured about proper nutrition and resting and preventing infection as if she was talking to a normal patient but not Cristina.

He was amazed however at the fact that Cristina was listening and not snapping back at the nurse she despised so much.

A blur that was Debbie crossed in front of him and out of the room and he came to focus on Cristina, "Where am I taking you?"

She hadn't yet agreed on coming home, citing that it would be too hard for her to concentrate on getting up to par, because she wanted to talk to the Chief about coming back, and also citing that she wasn't going to be a dead weight around the apartment and have him pay for everything.

Cristina silently laid a piece of paper in his hands, and sat on the edge of the bed, a coy smile on her face.

"What is this?"

"Can you read?" she let out an exaggerated sigh.

He glanced down to the paper and saw that it was conditions for her coming home, with an expiration date of a week away.

One week of him playing her game, and he would be home free, it was a small price to pay for getting his Cristina back where he could watch her.

"I have rules?" he questioned, though, trying desperately just to hear the sound of her voice as number 3 indicated that he wasn't to interrupt her while she was practicing because she couldn't think if he was talking to her.

She also added that she meant that in the most loving of ways.

"You have rules, and if you want me to stay home, you'll follow the rules."

"When do they go into effect?"

"About an hour after we get home." she answered, picking her bags up from the bed.

He stepped to her side and pulled them from her hand, "I do not think you're helpless, I'm carrying your bags because I'm your boyfriend and it's what I'm supposed to do." he interjected as he pulled them from her shoulder before she could say anything, "And why an hour?"

She grinned suggestively, "Because you're my boyfriend and you're what I want to do."

That'll at least make the week a little less painful he though, following her out of the room.

He noticed the absent glances as she made her way through the surgical unit, hushed whispers from the nurses and staff, the words Grey and Yang intertangled in webs of lies and truths, and Cristina looked to the ground, "They think I can't hear." she mumbled to him.

"They're not talking." he lied to her, his heart breaking for her at the same time.

"They're talking. I've heard them talking for the past 4 days that I've been stuck on this unit. Everybody talks, and I'm the latest gossip. Crazy Cristina that nearly starved herself to death trying to come back to work. Crazy Cristina who ignores her boyfriend and blows him off to live in a call-room off of coffee and cookies so she can suture a dummy arm. Crazy Cristina is the name they've given me." she continued quietly, rage sparking deep within her.

"They're crazy then."

"But Meredith." it's as if she didn't hear them, "They talk about how far Meredith has come since the accident. How she's not at Joe's anymore, and she seems more focused, and sturdy, and she's really coming into her own. Yes, Meredith Grey will follow in the footsteps of her great mother, and I, Crazy Cristina, I will hopefully get back into the program at the same level I left off on, hopefully. Or I can come back and be an intern, and maybe...probably, because this existence is cruel, I will end up with Meredith Grey as my resident, and I will remind her on a daily basis how she has totally taken my life and ruined it because she had to have a couple of drinks."

Burke was taken aback at the self-disclosure that Cristina was giving up to him, she'd never said so much to him before in one setting, but it was obvious that the exhaustion, the anger, and the jealousy of Meredith was finally getting to her.

How saddening it was to see that she was jealous of Meredith, when it used to be that every intern the hospital was jealous of her and her potential, her edge, her knowledge.

He placed an arm around her shoulder as they left the hospital, "I'll bring you back later so you can get your bike. It's too cold for you to ride it right now."

"Rule number eight says you can't treat me like I'm fragile." she pointed out quietly.

"I have up to one hour after we get home to not follow the rules, and right now, you have to do what I say, and I say we're going to go get a cup of coffee, and I'm going to take you to get something to eat, and I'm going to waste an entire afternoon getting home, because the rules didn't say that I couldn't." he placed the bags in the back seat of their car and closed it softly.

"I need to practice." she sighed, falling against his chest. "I need to come back to work and prove their rumors wrong, Burke."

He brushed her hair away from her face, and pulled her tight against him, "You'll practice. You'll practice one hour after we get home, but right now, I'm focusing on my needs. And I need you."

She looked to him, a slight smile spread across her lips and mumbled in a barely audible voice, "I need you too."

A/N: Nope. Not the end. She's not recovered! She doesn't have her job back yet! Keep reading, keep reading!! Okay, as I update. I was going to make it dark and twisty, but you people and your happy Christmas stuff, I couldn't break your spirits. Yet.


	19. Chapter 19

Burke watched silently as Cristina focused on the hospital's hijacked arm that lay before her, slowly suturing an 8 inch laceration that she'd placed on the forearm. Every so often she'd let out exasperated sighs, and blow her hair from her face in frustration.

Then there were the times when Burke was sure that he was going to have to dodge an arm coming his way.

They'd lived in near silence for 3 days, and she seemed happier when she did come to bed, and she would snuggle up next to him, lay her head across his chest and quickly fall asleep. But it was those moments of their day that he lived for.

He bit his lip as she became frustrated with the mattress stitch, longing to tell her what it was that she was doing wrong, but he restrained himself, instead crossing to her, pouring a cup of fresh coffee, pushing it to her left side, to signify to her, that she needed to start on the left.

In his mind anyway.

And she picked it up, "You're cheating." she mumbled, not looking up to face him.

He cleared his throat, still studying her, his newfound way of asking her permission to talk to her.

She looked up, frustration painted across her face, "Yes?"

"Can I continue to cheat?" he questioned in a steady voice, longing to make it just a little easier for her.

"Fine, tell me what I'm doing wrong. It looks like a bad home-ec project anyway..." she sighed, letting her hemostat and needle drop to the counter.

"Start on the left, don't go do deep, go to the right, go deeper, go straight across the left, then back right, come up to the surface, then straight across the left, you're not altering your depths." he mumbled.

She nodded, wondering why she couldn't remember that from just a few months ago, there were things in her distant memory that were still just a little fuzzy- how she felt when she was pregnant, what it was exactly that made her cry whenever she finally broke down, but she retained most everything from med school, all of the technical things. She just couldn't get her body to do it.

But she continued to work, doing exactly as he'd said, working quietly as he watched over her, nodding his head lightly in approval.

He rounded the counter to place a light kiss on the back of her head, "I knew you could do it."

She let out a long sigh, "I'm glad you think so."

"I have to go to...", his voice trailed off as he jammed his hands in his pockets, momentarily feeling stupid for even mentioning that he had to leave, that he had to go to work.

Oh, how it must make her feel to be abandoned at home while he had to return to the hospital.

"Work." she finished his sentence. "You have to go to work, and it's fine. I understand. It doesn't bug me that you have to work."

"Can I kiss you goodbye before I leave?" He suddenly felt silly about asking his girlfriend permission to kiss her goodbye, but it was her rules.

She turned to face him and let a discreet smile creep across her lips, "Only if it's a short one. I have to practice."

He pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her forehead first, "I could help you, you might be able to pick them up and retain them faster..."

"That's not a kiss." she sighed, looking away from him.

He tilted her chin back up so she was facing him, "No, it wasn't...I'm sorry." he bent in and brushed her lips lightly with his, as his hand slid up into her hair.

After a few moments she finally pushed him away, everything fuzzing around her, "I need to get back to work, and you need to get to work." she mumbled.

He let his hands fall to his sides in defeat, "Okay...Can I call you? On lunch? To make sure..."

"I'm not fragile." she reminded him quietly, not turning to look at him.

He picked up his keyes and bag, "I'm glad you're home." he mumbled, before opening the door, "I love you." he reminded her before closing it.

She sat down the hemostat and looked to the closed door, pressing her lips together, "I love you too." she mumbled at the door, wishing that somehow she could bring herself to say it to his face.

But she would save those words. Those were the words she always used to heal a wound in their relationship, it was the all purpose band-aid, really. But it wasn't time to put the band-aid on, yet.

She focused back at her task at hand and continued to work on her mattress stitch, his words echoing through her head as she worked.

It helped her focus, it helped her clear away the muck that muddled her mind, and focus on the stitch itself.

She continued for a few hours, re-mastering the mattress, and reviewing the rest, leaving her one stitch left to practice and defeat before she would be willing to talk to the chief.

The most difficult suture, and the one she valued the most in her repertoire- the running whipstitch.


	20. Chapter 20

Burke stood in front of the board, with his hands jammed in his pocket, observing his busy schedule for the day. Two CABGs, a valve replacement, and an aortic aneurysm repair to round out the day.

It'd be at least 18 hours until he'd be able to go home to Cristina.

At least.

Bailey appeared next to him, observing her schedule, "Nobody has stomach issues today...that means my day will be short, beautiful, and I might be able to go home and get my little terror potty trained." she complained at him, "How about your little terror, what are you trainin' her to do?"

He chuckled a bit, "She is at home, currently practicing her mattress on a dummy arm hijacked from this very department. And she's training me, for the record."

"Training you to do what? To steal suture packets and hospital equipment?" Bailey questioned, her lips puckered.

"Amongst other things." Burke raised an eyebrow at her, "You gonna tell?"

"Of course not. Cristina Yang may have been a pain in the ass when she was my intern, but she was still the best we had, and she was very promising...I'm rooting for her. And if you tell her that, you'll have to relearn your sutures too." Bailey threatened him, a sly twinkle in her eye.

"Can I borrow a second year today to help me clear this board?"

"You don't have any second year procedures...and they're on their GI rotation." she noted. "And is this going where I think it's going?"

"You don't have any procedures, and I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Who do you want?"

"Meredith Grey."

"This is going where I thought it was." Bailey dropped her arms to her side, grabbing her phone, "You better be nice."

"I'll be on my utmost professional behavior. Have her meet me in OR1 for my CABG." he nodded, and walked away from her.

Bailey shook her head as she paged Meredith, "That man is nothing but trouble." she muttered to herself.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Meredith Grey slowly made her way to OR1, her heart pounding out of her chest, her mind racing rapidly, why would Burke want her to scrub in on his surgeries?

He could do it to try to punish her, but that wasn't his style. He wouldn't ever do that at work, besides his MO was to give the silent treatment as far as she knew.

She pushed into the door of the scrub room and found him standing there, scrubbing for the procedure. "Dr. Burke?"

"Ah, Dr. Grey...so glad to see you. Scrub in, I need somebody to retract the chest wall while I operate."

"Can't an intern..." her voice trailed off, "It's just that I've been following a patient.."

"There are no

"Is there a reason that you aren't interested in cardiothoracics? Cristina always enjoyed it." he muttered, tossing his used scrub brush into the trash can beside him, "I'll see you in the OR, Dr. Grey."

She scrubbed at her hands viciously, as she thought about the words that they would exchange in the OR, as if she hadn't been punished enough for what had happened to Cristina, now she had to deal with Burke being back in the hospital, with her there at his fingertips to torture at his every whim.

She tossed the brush into the trashcan and considered leaving for a fleeting moment, and the idea left as she figured he could get her kicked out of the program if she was insubordinate.

And she wasn't going to go down without a fight, even if she may have been in the wrong in the first place.

Meredith had already let the guilt eat at her, and she continued to battle it everyday, and nobody seemed to notice or care that she'd apologized and tried to make retribution for her actions.

As much as one can.

"Dr. Grey, nice of you to join us in the OR. They quit doing 15 minute scrubs in the early 1990's, y'know." Burke held is hands in front of him awaiting his 10 blade.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Burke, I guess my mind was wandering."

He looked at her with cold eyes, "This is my OR, Dr. Grey. You have to focus, be responsible...or someone could get hurt."

Every word that came from her mouth, he wanted to cut her as if he were using a 10 blade. He wanted to make her know exactly how much it was that he resented her, and how much she didn't deserve to be in this hospital working while Cristina sat at home, practicing sutures on a mannequin arm.

"Dr. Burke, I would prefer if we could focus at the task on hand." Meredith finally replied, shocked at the continuous blows that he was dealing her. "I'm here to assist you in the OR, not to be your punching bag."

Burke shot her a look before cutting into the chest of his patient, "Yes, Dr. Grey. I'm wrong to take out my aggressions on you. It was Cristina who was hurt the most, not me."

Another blow.

Meredith remained silent, pressing her lips together under her surgical mask, she wasn't going to take his bait any longer, and she was only going to reply when his statements pertained to the surgery.

She couldn't hold his actions against him, because his actions were that of an angry boyfriend, not a surgeon, and she knew that he would never be the same man until Cristina would come back to work.

The rest of the surgery, the duo remained silent as he quietly and tediously worked to repair the damaged heart that lay before him using a running whipstitch to attach the vessel to the graft.

His mind drifted to Cristina as he performed the suture, thinking back to the first time she'd done it- she was doing it for him. She was doing it out of love to protect him despite the fact that both of their careers could be at risk, and his heart sank in his chest.

He looked up to Meredith, his eyes softening only a little bit, "Can anybody else do this?"

Meredith watched him suture and shook her head, "Nobody's gotten close to doing it like Cristina can...there are fourth years that envy her."

"Could. Like she could." he mumbled.

"I get it, okay. I know that I ruined her, and destroyed her and took everything away from her, and I get that. Lay off." she finally broke, glaring at him.

Burke shook his head at her, "I hadn't even started, Dr. Grey. If you think that these are my true feelings- the words I'd really like to say to you, then you are foolish, because you should know that I would never act like that in a professional setting, and most times at all. But for you, at this point in time, I would make an allowance if we weren't at work."

She looked away from him and let out a sigh of relief to see that he was done suturing the pericardial sac, and was preparing to close the chest. "May I be excused, Dr. Burke? I have a patient that I need to check on."

He gave her a curt nod, "I expect to see you in OR 3 at 11 for my second CABG, Grey." he ordered simultaneously closing the ribs.

"Yes sir." she sighed, turning her back from him, her eyes tearing up.

This was going to be the day from hell.


	21. Chapter 21

Cristina stood over her arm, that she'd placed at least a 16 inch laceration scaling through the antecubital up to the axillae, trying to weave her needle in and out of the laceration in a running whipstitch, but it wasn't coming together.

"Just this stitch..." she told herself quietly, still working at it until she heard his key slide into the door.

She glanced at the clock on the stove to see that it was nine p.m, she'd been going at the whipstitch since about three hours after he'd left and she still couldn't get it down. She couldn't get her mind or her fingers wrapped around it.

She dropped the hemostat as he walked into the door and walked across the room to make it look like she hadn't been standing there all day long.

"Cristina?" he questioned lightly, looking over to the scene of the crime, "Have you rested at all today?"

"Rule 8." she mumbled, looking away from him.

"Stipulation 10, I can ask and if you haven't I can make you." he reminded her.

"There is no such thing as stipulation 10, and you know it." she muttered under her breath, coming back to the counter to pick up her work again.

"What stitch are you working on?" he asked her, peering over her shoulder.

"You're still talking." she replied quietly, trying not to make it sound like she was angry at him.

"I am still talking, because you haven't rested, and I'm allowed to do that. What suture, Cristina?"

"The reverse." she mumbled, lying to him, hoping that her whipstitch was bad enough that he couldn't tell the difference.

He let out a long exhale, knowing that she was working on the running whipstitch and nodded, "It looks good."

It looked like the work of a 5 year old with a needle, but he wasn't going to take away what she was doing, and he wasn't going to interrupt her any longer. "I'm exhausted, and it's been a very long day, so I am going to go to bed." he pressed a kiss to her forehead, "I hope that you'll come to bed soon as well."

She nodded quietly, and continued to work as he flipped on the bedroom light and gently closed the door to the bedroom, giving her privacy to continue working. She dropped the tools to the counter and slid down to the floor, resting her head in her knees.

She needed help. He'd taught her before, showed her how to do it just at home one night, while he was recovering from his gunshot. The way he'd slid around behind her, and grasped her hands, guiding them as he sutured the chicken back together through her was uniquely romantic in a way that two normal people would never understand.

Cristina squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember the steps in her head, but when he was with her, everything seemed to glide into place perfectly as it was meant to be there all along.

She heard him stir a little in the room and jumped back to her feet, glancing down at the text next to her and then back to the arm.

One more stitch and she could go to the chief. She could tell him that she wanted to come back, that she needed to prove herself.

That she could make it as a second year resident.

She could make it.

She picked up her needle again and continued to work at it, pulling and puncturing the flesh of the mannequin, pulling it together, removing stitches, pulling it back apart, "It has to come back to me. The rest of them did." she muttered to herself, setting down for a moment to study the pictures.

The text made it look so simple to her. Just a simple in and out pattern, with an alternating x and purse string finish to prevent separation or deproximation of the wound, most commonly used on hearts to fix thick lacerations and attach vessels to the graft site.

The words were so simple. The idea of it was easy.

But why were the motions so hard.

She looked to their bedroom door, pondering asking him for help. Giving into a moment of weakness and asking him to once again guide her hands, show her the movements.

But she quickly changed her mind, citing that if she needed him to show her how to do it a second time, that would be average, unacceptable.

Cristina Yang always caught on the first time around.

She pulled at the proline, delicately straightening it between two fingers before threading her needle into the arm, and pulling it out gently, weaving it around, trying her best to remember method as she disappeared into her own mind.

Burke watched quietly from the doorway as she continued to work on the suture that he'd taught her, and she continued to become more and more frustrated.

She was the only intern at Seattle Grace to do a running whipstitch, and she would be the only second year resident to know the running whipstitch if she could just get it down again.

He waited patiently, knowing that she wouldn't ask for his assistance, but knowing if he just waited a little bit longer, maybe she would accept it.

He pressed the door closed again, quietly, sadly, and fell into their cold empty bed.

He would give her time to figure it out on her own.

A/N: That's all for tonight. I'm going out. :)


	22. Chapter 22

It was 2 am. She'd been up for nearly 24 hours, continuously working on this stitch. Her eyes heavy with sleep, her heart full with frustration, she continued to work. It was the suture that would give her life back.

That would pull everything back into place, and help her resume her normal function in the world, in her relationship, in her career.

It would make everything better.

She let out a sigh, and pulled the proline from the arm once again, then straightened it out. She had to get it before she could rest.

Even if it was just once pass, she had to get it right.

She looked up as Burke walked out of their bedroom, alarmingly awake, and walked towards her, his eyes never leaving hers.

He slid behind her, his chin coming to rest between her shoulder and neck, his lips just inches from her ear, "Let me help you." he whispered low, his hands sliding down to grasp hers in his.

She nodded quietly and his hands begun to guide hers in a series of quick and flawless movements, the running whipstitch.

Together, they were fixing things.

"In and out, right, left, in and out, left right..." he mumbled in her ear, a rhythmic, soothing voice. "Then your purse strings..."

His hands released from hers as she continued to do it on her own, and he brought them to grasp her waist as she continued to work in front of him, "You've got it now...all you needed was just a little bit of a refresher. You knew it all along."

She completed another three series and set the needle down and turned to face him, "I've done them all. There's no more I can do...except for talk to the chief and hope that I can get my job back."

"Are you ready?" he asked her, wrapping his arms around her waist again, pulling her close.

"I'm..." she paused for a moment, "I'm scared."

"Understandable."

"I'm scared that the chief will say no, or that he'll get angry, or...that he'll say yes, and then I won't be able to do it."

He kissed her forehead, "You can do anything, Cristina...It hasn't even been 12 weeks, and you've already got most of your muscle mass back in your arms, and you know your textbooks like the back of your hand as always, and you can do a running whipstitch again, something that most of your fellow colleagues haven't mastered yet."

"How did you know?" she pulled away for a moment and glanced up to him, her eyes reddened from exhaustion.

"How did I know what?"

"That I needed you...to show me how to do it again." her voice trailed off as she fell away from his gaze, "How did you know to help me?"

He smiled down at her, "Because I know you, and I know how stubborn you are, and I know that you had to try and fail so many times on your own before you would ever admit defeat and I also knew that you'd never ask for help."

"Why didn't you help me earlier?" she pressed, scoffing lightly.

His mood brightened at her making an attempt to joke, "Because you would've pushed me away. I set the alarm for 1:45, knowing that if you weren't in bed by then, it was time for me to come and help you."

"Well...y'know...thank you." she let a smile creep across her lips, "It's a little after 2, y'know. We could go to bed, and you could sleep in and go in at 7 instead of 6, and maybe I could go with you? Talk to the chief?"

He pulled her close and started towards the bedroom, "It sounds like a plan to me."

"Burke, I need to clean up..." she stopped, turning back to the counter.

He pulled her hand towards the bedroom, a smile on his face, "For the first time in a long time, you just offered to come to bed with me. I'm taking advantage of that, we can clean up later."

She followed him into the bedroom, her hand clasped in his, "Whatever you say. You're the boss...for a few hours."

"Does that mean there's no more rules?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as she walked to her side of the bed to settle in.

She glanced up at him, and gave him a single nod, "No more rules. You can torture me and treat me like a China doll all that you want now. Not that I'm going to respond to it, or anything."

"You'll respond." he assured her, turning off the lamp and falling into bed next to her. "Trust me, you'll respond."

"Are you so sure?" she mumbled, already feeling the exhaustion wear through her body and begin to take over.

His arm fell into place around her waist, and he took in her scent as he rested his chin on her shoulder, contentment painted oh his face, he kissed her shoulder. "I love you." he offered up and waited patiently for a response.

"Burke?" her voice pierced through the silence.

"Yeah?"

She grinned, though he couldn't see it, "I'm tired."

A/N: Okay, that really is all for tonight.


	23. Chapter 23

Cristina smiled at Burke as he got back into the car, two coffees in hand, "Thanks baby." she mumbled, taking a sip of the hot liquid.

"You're welcome." he smiled back sipping his own, "I only have 2 surgeries today and a little bit of paperwork to catch up on, so either you could stay and hang out in the gallery maybe or you could just come back later and get me."

"Do you really have to ask where I'm going to go after I talk to Webber? Seriously?" she asked, her eyebrow raised.

The rest of their ride was full of the same chatter they always carried about before everything happened. His same routine of trying to get her to self-disclose, her same routine of dodging it.

As they pulled onto the street where the hospital was, a car pulled out in front of them and he threw his arm in front of her, "Watch where you're going!" he shouted unheard at the other car that pulled into the drive of the hospital.

She grabbed his arm, her fingers slipping down and interlacing with his, "It's okay, Burke...chill out."

He nodded, letting out a long sigh, "Sorry. Guess I'm just a little on edge today.

He pulled into a parking spot just a few spaces down from the careless driver and the two of them piled out of the car, and glanced towards the driver that cut them off.

A blonde head rose from the car, and they both immediately looked at each other, anger painted over their expressions, and their abnormally cheerful mood obliterated.

"Why doesn't it surprise me that it was her?" Burke muttered, looking away in disgust.

Cristina scowled at her, "Didn't they teach you how to drive or something in those classes you had to go to?"

Meredith looked at Cristina with wide eyes, hurt by the amount of anger the two of them carried for her, "Look, I'm sorry. I'm really late for rounds, I would love to stay and have the two of you be mad at me all day, but I have to go."

"Yeah, I have to go too, Mer. I have to go talk to the Chief and beg for my job back." Cristina continued, "You think about that while you're rounding on patients."

Meredith shook her head, "What is it going to take to get your forgiveness again? Huh? Because I've done everything I can do. I can't do anything else for you, I can't say I'm sorry enough obviously...and what happened to 'oh thank you for making me realize that I love my freakin' boyfriend'? What happened to that?"

Cristina glanced up to Burke and then back to Meredith, "Shut up." she muttered, reaching for Burke's hand, "Let's go...my appointment is in 10 minutes."

Burke nodded at her, curious about the comment that Meredith had made to Cristina, but said nothing.

As they entered the doors of the hospital, Cristina let out a long exhale, "I'm ready, right? I'm ready..."

"Your sutures are better than mine." he offered, trying to boost her confidence.

"I didn't say I needed false reassurances. I just wanted to know that I'm ready." she elbowed him lightly in the side, glancing up to the skywalk above them as they waited for the elevator.

"You're ready." he followed her onto the elevator which was conveniently vacant and pressed the button to let her off on her floor.

As the doors slid shut he leaned down and gave her a fleeting soft kiss, "You're ready."

"Okay. I'm ready. I'll see you in the gallery later? You got anything good."

"Your favorite. AAA repair."

"I'm there." she grinned, ready just to catch sight of the OR again, to smell the mix of povidone iodine and a sterile field, the bright lights, the shiny scalpels glistening in a dimmed OR.

She was ready.

Until she arrived at the door of Webber's office.

"Cristina, come in." he extended his hand, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk, "You look much better than the last time I saw you."

"I am better, Dr. Webber. At everything."

"Jumping right in, I should've expected no less." he placed his hands together in front of him.

"Let me come back, chief. I'm the best resident you have. I've busted my ass to get here, and I have worked out all my sutures, my health is not an issue, I'm ready to come back."

"And I've told you that you could come back in July with the other interns."

"But I'm not an intern.", she protested, her hands falling to her lap, "I'm a second year resident. Yeah, I've been off for almost three months."

"Over three months." he interjected.

"Okay, over three months, whatever, I've been off, but in those three months that I've missed, I guarantee you it's content that I already know. I've built my dexterity back up, I've built my muscle back up in my arms, I'm regaining muscle memory every day, my cognition is fine. I'm ready to come back chief. Put me on scut duty or have me follow Shepard around every day for 3 months, just let me come back."

Webber looked at her intently, "Yang, you know what's in the contract. You probably have it memorized. This isn't how it works with our surgery program here at Seattle Grace and you know that. We're one of the greatest in demand when it comes to the elite residencies, if I let my residents run amuck and come and go as they please..."

"I didn't ask to get in a wreck. I didn't ask to nearly get killed by a resident you have running around on one of your floors right now. I shouldn't be punished for that."

"You will not bring up Meredith Grey to me."

"Fine. But you say it's a program for the elite. The best. I am the best. I can do all the sutures, the reverse, the near-and-far, the mattress, the purse strings, the running whipstitch. I can do it all, and I'll prove it to you. Just let me prove it to you."

"You can prove it all to me next July." his voice was firm, and his tone was near-threatening. "Next July you can come back here and show up every one of the interns."

"I've already showed up one group, I don't need to show another up."

"We have an excellent cardiology program, with a 5 year residency. You'd be done next year, have a career, have time for a family."

"Cardiology is second best. Average. And surgery is my life, having a family is not one of my priorities in life, and you know that Dr. Webber, with all due respect." she shot back at him, resorting to blows.

Anything to get him to listen.

"All I want is for you to at least consider the option. Consider the option of letting me make my comeback. There has to be somebody you can talk to. The CEO, the Medical Review Board, somebody. There has to be a way for me to get back into the OR." Despair was starting to overwhelm her voice, and she wouldn't break her intense glare from his eyes, "You have to get me back into the OR as a resident, not as an intern."

"I may be able to approach them about at least getting you back in as a second year resident in July."

"Now."

Webber sat back and studied her for a long, silent, moment. The intensity in her eyes said it all to him, that she wouldn't accept no for an answer, regardless of the fact that there was nothing he would do to get her into the program, so he used a patented statement to get people off of his back, "Fine. I'll talk to them, Dr. Yang. We'll see what we can do."

She rose from her chair, "Good...that's good."

"It's good." he lied, "I have some other business to attend to."

"As do I, Burke is getting ready to do an AAA repair right now, and I'm going to go to the gallery and watch." she nodded, "Of course, if that's okay with you."

He paused for a moment, then gave her a half-smile, "I couldn't keep you out of there if I said no."

"Thanks, chief. I'll call you later this week?" she walked backwards towards the door, looking at him.

"Yeah...later this week." he mumbled, his eyes falling to her file in front of him.

"I won't disappoint you. Just give me a chance."

Webber rested his forehead in his hands, massaging his temples lightly, "Patricia?" he called out to his assistant.

"Yeah, Richard?"

He pulled the file from his desk and handed it to her, "Put this file in with the intern's 2009 files, please."

"Isn't this Dr. Yang's?"

"Did I ask you to ask me questions? Put the file away with the other interns for July, and I don't want to see it again until July."

A/N: Say it with me, "Stupid Chief!!"


	24. Chapter 24

Cristina was out of options.

She snuck quietly into the gallery, ignoring the fact that it was closed, and sank against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest as she watched Burke operate.

'I don't want to see it again until July.' his words rang through her head, over and over again as if it were on some non-stop and torturous playback.

She looked down toward Burke who glanced up to her in the same smile, and she flashed him a false smile, giving him false reassurance, then trailed her eyes back up to the ceiling as she tipped her head back.

Cristina couldn't even bring herself to watch the repair at the fear that she might lose control of her emotions and she couldn't afford to lose control anymore, she'd already lost enough.

She'd lost her best friend because of her actions.

She'd lost her job.

She'd lost a closeness that her and Burke had fought for over 2 years.

She was losing everything.

"Dr. Yang..." a voice blared from the intercom next to her, interrupting her thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Dr. Burke would like to know if you want to watch the surgery from a better vantage point."

She looked down to him, longing in her eyes and shook her head softly, "I can't. I have some...papers, I have to fill out for the chief. I just wanted to stop by for a second...to...y'know, see the surgery."

He watched as she rose from her spot in the gallery and stepped down to the window, peering in, not at his open chest but at him, her hand laid against the glass, her eyes sad, and he knew almost immediately what had happened.

Letting out a long sigh he returned to his work as her fingers gently left the glass and her gaze focused on the doorway rather than him, "Dr. O'Malley, would you like to close for me?" he offered, quietly.

"You want to let me close?" George stammered, applying a tighter grip to his retractor, "S-s-s-seriously?"

"If you think you can handle it, O'Malley. I'll be done in about 15 minutes or so, and I have some business to attend to.

"Absolutely, I'm your guy, Dr. Burke." he interjected, his heart beginning to race.

Callie wouldn't ever believe him about this.

"You're my guy, O'Malley." he repeated absently, working the rest of the surgery in silence, opting to let George take over the circulating calls to the nurse.

He was thinking about too many things, ruminating the possibilities that lie before him, the tools that he had, the methods he knew in being successful.

But nothing seemed to add up when he was formulating a way to get Cristina back, and the sense of powerlessness that had been growing within him for months finally began to overwhelm him.

Completing his last suture he nodded at George, setting his equipment in the tool tray, "I will let you take over Dr. O'Malley." and with that he left his OR, his mind focused on Cristina and what he could do.

He would be willing to give it all up if she could walk into an OR as a resident, if that's what would make her happy, if that's what would give her back the spark that he fell in love with.

He paused for a moment after he pulled the gown off of his body.

"That's it..." he mumbled, jamming his hands under the water of the scrub sink, his heart rate starting to increase, "I can't believe I haven't thought of that before."

He finished washing his hands hurriedly and went to find Cristina, then they would approach the chief together, he came to a stop just by the nurse's station where she saw her talking to Izzie.

"I guess I'll just do cardiology for the next few months, then I'll switch specialties. People do it all the time, and I just can't stay home for another 10 months or whatever it is." he overheard her, fake optimism lacing her bittered voice.

"Cardio can't be that bad, plus you can be home with Preston at night, doing boyfriend and girlfriend stuff or whatever." Izzie scoffed at her, "I've been thinking about switching too, from surgery, I just hate it, I used to love it...but now, y'know..." then her voice trailed off. Her face began to grow red from embarassment, "Sorry, I'm trying to talk about hating surgery and here you are busting your ass to get back into it."

"It's okay, Stevens. I can handle you not wanting to be a surgeon...it's not your fault that I got hit by a crazy drunk driver." and her eyes trailed up to Meredith who was conveniently crossing in front of her.

"Cristina.." Izzie began to chide her, then fell silent.

Meredith stopped and turned to face Cristina, "What did you say?"

"I said I got hit by a crazy drunk driver." Cristina stood, "I'm sorry...you hadn't heard? You must've been drunk when it happened."

Burke shifted uncomfortably, still standing a distance away from the three girls, unseen, trying to decide whether or not he should intervene.

"You told me that you weren't mad at me, you told me that you were thankful because you knew how much Burke loved you, that you knew that he was the most important thing to you in your life..." Meredith shot at her.

"Surgery will always be the most important thing in my life, and you took that away...but you weren't totally successful in taking it away because I'll be back, Meredith, and I will make your life hell as an intern."

"Whatever." Meredith scoffed, and quickly rounded the corner to find Burke.

"Dr. Grey." he mumbled, his heart aching from Cristina's words.

"Sounds like Cristina still has her priorities, doesn't it? Surgery first, as always." Meredith glared at him, an eyebrow raised, "Think about that the next time you feel like taking your frustrations out on me, Dr. Burke."

He walked away from her and around the corner to Cristina's side, "Are you ready to go him, Cristina? My other surgery got bumped, and I can finish paper work later?"

"Are you sure? I mean, I'm okay hanging out here while you do your paperwork. I need to fill out stuff for cardiology anyway." her voice was soft and sad, not the same voice that she'd used on Meredith.

Maybe she was just speaking out of anger, of bitterness towards the woman who took away everything she had.

Maybe surgery wasn't the most important thing in her life, and he really was, but she was just mad.

Burke put an arm around her shoulder, leading her away from the nurse's station, "I just want to go home."

A/N: Still more tonight.


	25. Chapter 25

Cristina sat quietly on the end of their couch, her knees drawn to her chest, staring blankly at the wall as Burke cooked dinner for the both of them.

Her eyes wandered over her textbooks, her suture materials still strewn over the table, then back to the wall.

She could practice, she thought, or she could sit here and be miserable and wallow in her anger and disdain for Meredith and Webber. She wouldn't have to know sutures for cardiology anyway, the only thing they had to know was how to listen to a heart, and even a bad nurse could do that.

"Cristina...dinner is ready." Burke offered lightly, holding a plate of chicken and vegetables out to her.

She rose from the couch and shuffled slowly to the table, folding a leg underneath herself as she sat down to eat. "Thanks, baby."

He studied her quietly, aching to say something about what she'd said to Meredith earlier, longing to know if surgery really was the one thing that was still of the utmost importance to her, and that he was still just second place. He let out a long sigh as he stabbed at a spear of broccoli, "No sutures tonight?"

She shook her head, pushing a piece of chicken around her plate, "What's the point? Webber's too busy catering to Meredith to handle two residents with issues. I'll just work in cardiology until July and switch specialties."

"You could stay home...just work at your sutures more?"

She looked up to him, "Seriously? You think I can just sit here for another 11 months or whatever and suture bananas, chickens and an arm?"

"You're right. I forget how important the hospital is to you." he retorted, letting his anger out of check for only a moment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she dropped her fork on her plate, "Because that sounded like it was supposed to mean something."

"Nothing, Cristina. You're reading too much into it."

"Burke." she threatened.

"Cristina. Now that we know each other, how can I help you?" he took a sip of his water, trying to clear his throat for the impending fight.

"Why are you acting like that?" she pressed.

"It couldn't have anything to do with the fact, that I'm still just an accessory to you, could it?"

"Where do you get that? I never said..."

"You said it to Meredith today. That surgery was the most important thing in your life. I guess I'm just details?"

Cristina sunk down into her chair, hoping against all hopes that she could just disappear, that she could just be some place else in that moment, "You heard that..." she sighed. "Burke, I didn't..."

"You didn't want me to hear?"

"No, that's not what I meant, I didn't mean it that way, I was angry, and I was...I was just angry with her, and I wanted her to know how much she hurt me. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Well, it sure as hell meant something to me, Cristina." he threw his fork down at his plate, "I've done everything I can do for you. I've swallowed enough pride for the both of us, and let you go about the hard way of doing everything, and you still can't just let me love you. I can't keep this up forever."

He rose from his seat, leaving a nearly full plate of food on the table, and she hurriedly followed him into the bedroom. "Burke, you can't just walk away."

"You've done it before.", he regretted it the second he'd said it.

"That's not fair."

"What in our relationship is fair? I've given you all that I can, and it's never good enough...not for you."

"It's always good enough." she protested, sitting next to him on the bed her hand coming to rest on his.

"Then marry me."

Actions speak louder than words, and in the moment that she pulled her hand away and looked at him as if he'd smacked her, her words would never be enough. "Burke, I love you..."

There was a long pause of silence, then he finally spoke.

"But you're not in love with me?" he questioned, "Or you expect to tow me around on this line for the rest of your life and not fully give of yourself?"

"It's not that I don't want to marry you...I want to get back to work, to surgery first. I need to."

"Because it's always surgery first with you." he muttered, his words cutting through her like a scalpel.

She forced herself to his side, pushing aside her doubts, "Let me get back to work. Get back into the routine that I know, the life that I'm used to..."

"I should be the life that you're used to." he interrupted her.

"Let me finish. Just let me have a few weeks back at work and ask me again. I promise you, I promise that I will say yes, and I don't care when we do whatever we have to do to make it official...just let me get back to work." She didn't really feel the words she was saying, but she couldn't take him being angry at this moment in time.

And she certainly couldn't take a proposal either.

"You mean that?" he asked, glancing at her with doubt.

"Would I say it if I didn't?"

A/N: He doesn't know better, but we do. Sorry, your Christmas is over, I don't have to worry about the Christmas spirit. ;) ;)


	26. Chapter 26

Webber peered up from over the crisp white paper at Preston Burke, his most valued surgeon. A world renowned surgeon that brought in a great revenue to his hospital, who had won more awards, more recognition than any other surgeon in his hospital and let out a long sigh, "Preston, what the hell is this?"

"It's my resignation sir. Isn't it clearly stated in the twelfth line?" He replied, irritatingly nonchalant as he rocked back and forth on his heels, his hands jammed deep into his pockets of his white coat.

"I can read the twelfth line and the rest of this bullshit in front of me, but why the hell are you giving this to me, you can't leave this hospital...you can't resign. Where the hell are you going?" He sputtered, throwing the paper to his desk.

"I can probably list 400 hospitals that would take me in a heartbeat, Richard."

"Sit down, Preston."

"That's quite alright, Chief, I have a surgery in about 20 minutes, so I really must be on my way. I just wanted to deliver this to you in person before I got to work."

"There aren't 400 hospitals. There has to be one, one that's offering you more than you get here?" Webber persisted, rising to his feet as well.

"There is one in particular, yes, but it's actually a pay cut. They're offering Cristina a position as a second year resident in their program, no internship or hoops to jump through, and they happen to need a chief of surgery. I'd be a shoo-in, I'm sure you know." He removed his glasses from his face, "Seattle Presbyterian, actually."

"This is about Yang?" Richard could feel his temple start to pulsate as anger raged through his veins, "You'd give up your career at Seattle Grace for her? Your girlfriend with commitment issues?"

"No, I'd give up my career because of a chief of surgery that will let the offender get away with her crime unscathed and punish the victim, Richard."

Webber balled his fist, placing it against his lip while he sought out the words to express his feelings in a professional way.

But there were none.

"It's simple, really." Burke continued, his voice steady and strong, "You can either bring Cristina back into the program with full credentials, or you can watch two excellent surgeons walk out that door and never come back, and I assure you, that when Cristina completes her fellowship, you're going to want her in your hospital."

"This is blackmail, you realize this?" Webber argued, looking for some sort of ground to stand on.

Burke chuckled, raising an eyebrow, "What are you going to do, Richard? Fire me?"

Webber sunk back into his seat, and began to massage his forehead as he often did when he was upset or irritated, "I can't win, can I?"

"Cristina Yang will be a great surgeon one day, better than me, better than anyone in the four walls of this hospital, so as I see it, we're both winning."

"I can't accept this resignation, Preston."

"And I can't accept the fact that Meredith Grey is out on the floor, learning and growing as a doctor, moving on with her life after the accident, when Cristina is sitting at home suturing bananas, sir. So I guess we've come to an impasse." Burke settled himself into the seat in front of Webber, a sly glimmer in his eyes.

The men sat in silence for a long while, trying to stare each other down, but neither would back down from his stance.

After a great pause, Richard picked up his phone and punched in a telephone number, "Fine, Preston...you win. I can't afford to lose you."

"She doesn't need to know about this conversation. Are we clear?" He was doing his best to reserve a grin until he could walk away from the man he'd just manipulated into doing his bidding.

Webber said nothing as he heard Cristina's voice answer on the other end of his phone, "Dr. Yang, this is Dr. Webber." he announced into the phone, "I have put some thought into what we talked about yesterday, and I've decided that I need you to come back to the hospital. You've obviously put a lot of time and effort into getting your game back and I value that."

Burke listened intently and his heart swelled when he heard a slight bit of jumbled words of excitement through the telephone, then a pause.

He shot a look at Burke as he swallowed hard, "No, Preston didn't have anything to do with this, he's actually in a emergent surgery right now. I just think that bringing you back would be the best thing to do after your show of dedication and desire to be here at Seattle Grace. I know that one day you'll make a fine surgeon, and I can't afford to lose you."

Burke stood from the seat and nodded at the Chief, "Thank you, sir." he mumbled low at him, stepping away from the desk.

"I will see you next Monday, Dr. Yang. You'll continue on your GI rotation with Dr. Bailey as your attending. Congratulations and let me be the first to say welcome back, Dr. Yang." he hurriedly hung up the telephone and shot a glare at Burke as he began to make his exit from the office.

"There wasn't another offer, was there, Preston?"

"Of course not, Chief." He let out a chuckle, "But I think you definitely made the right call. You won't regret it."

As soon as the words slipped from his mouth, he looked to his pager to see that Cristina was paging him from home. "That's Cristina, I'll see you around, Richard." And went to walk out of the office.

"You're in surgery, Preston...I'd hold off on calling her for a while." He reminded him, his forehead falling into his palms.

"Of course, Chief. Thank you."

Burke walked from the office, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Cristina was coming back to work.

A/N: I like manipulative Burke. I so wish I could just get Bang in my hands. I could do so much with them!


	27. Chapter 27

Cristina paced anxiously back and forth through the kitchen of their apartment, smoothing the short black dress she'd pulled from their closet, fidgeting with her hair, anything she could do to burn off the nervous energy she had.

"This is stupid.", she muttered to herself quietly and jumped as she heard his key slide into the door.

He felt his heart stop as his eyes fell upon her the moment he walked in the door, her hair was curled, but tamed in the same right, her eyes sparkling, dressed in his favorite black dress and she was smiling nervously like a teenager going on her first date, "Cristina?" he stammered.

"Don't say a word...I just thought maybe because of the good news and all that we could go out and have some dinner or something?"

He moved to her silently, and slid a hand behind her neck, the other around her waist and kissed her hungrily. This was the girl he'd been looking for, longing for, aching to hold in his arms for the past 3 months.

She responded to his kiss, and pulled herself closer to him, feeling alive for the first time since the accident, feeling there was some sort of hope, something to look forward to now.

When the kiss broke she smiled at him, "So, do I at least get dinner first?"

"Depends on how hungry you are...and you didn't tell me the good news." He sat down his bag on the bureau and walked towards the bedroom to change his clothes.

She followed him into the bedroom, "You can't tell me that you haven't heard, or that you don't have your assumptions."

"You got a job in cardiology." he joked lightly, pulling his sweater and undershirt from his body in one motion.

She took in a sharp breath as he stood before her shirtless and silently cursed the idea of dinner as his hands went for the button at the top of his jeans. "Burke."

He unbuttoned his jeans and took heed of the mischievous glimmer in her eyes and he continued to remove his pants, "You tell me what brought on this good mood. I want to hear it from you."

She sauntered to him, kicking off her heels along the way, and moving her arms behind her to awkwardly find the zipper to her dress, "I start work on Monday..."

"In cardiology right?" His hands slid around her back to find the zipper she was working to find.

"Not quite." She slipped her arms out of her dress as he finished unzipping it, letting it fall to her waist.

"Nursing?" He questioned, sliding it the rest of the way off of her body, and watching it fall to the ground.

"Not on your life...for that, I should get dressed again." She mocked bending over to pick up her dress, and he quickly halted her, pulling her back up to him.

He spread kisses from her shoulders to her neck, speaking in between kisses, "Are you going to tell me, or do I need to stop so that you can concentrate?"

Cristina led him back towards the bed, her hands lightly placed on his back and the back of his head as he kissed her, "I'm back in surgery...full credentials."

"You did it." Burke whispered in her ear as they found the bed, his voice husky and low as he went to remove her bra.

"I did it...but you helped." She mumbled, helping him to slide it off.

He froze and looked at her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean you helped me. Y'know...the whipstitch, putting up with me...what did you think I meant?" She questioned raising herself off of her back and propping her elbows behind her.

"It's nothing, I guess I just..." His voice trailed off and he opted for physical distraction rather than a verbal response to draw her mind away from what he'd said.

Cristina's hand reached up to find the light switch on the lamp and flipped it out, letting out a small chuckle has his hands trailed over her body, "We can eat after this, right?" She joked lightly.

He kissed her lips, effectively quieting her giggles and bringing her back to the mood she started in, "I love you." He mumbled, spreading kisses down her chest.

"I love you too." She whispered through the darkness, no hesitation apparent.

As he made love to her though, he couldn't help but have the nagging feeling in the back of his head, that the only reason that she was happy, the only reason that she was coming around was not because of him, or that she loved him, but because she could go back to work.

Because it was surgery first.

And he would always be second place.

It was time to put that theory to test.

A/N: I don't know if I'll post anymore tonight or not. I think I'm in the Grey's watching kind of mood instead of Grey's writing kind of mood.


	28. Chapter 28

Cristina's eyes fell upon the velvet box sitting upon her pillow and her mind began to race, she snatched up into her hand, without opening it and stalked into the living room, only a towel wrapped around her body, "Burke...what the hell is this?"

He glanced up from the paper and looked at her, "What does it look like?"

"Quit being like that. What the hell is this? It's my first day back to work, and you're already pulling this stunt on me? I can't deal with this...this thing right now."

Burke shifted uncomfortably in his chair, laying his paper down, "This thing? Is that what you consider our relationship to be after this long? Just a thing that you have to deal with?"

"It's not that, it's just that, I want to get settled back into work, and into the routine..."

"You want to be able to avoid me with a real excuse as to why you're doing it." He finished her sentence, finally rising from his chair and crossing to her.

His heart was aching from her words, but he would not show it. His pride was wounded, but she would not know it.

"You're not being fair." She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from his steady gaze.

"You're the one that promised that you'd finally give into me after you got back to work." He reminded her gently.

"After a few weeks. It hasn't been a few weeks." She shot back at him, stepping out of his arms reach.

"I'm supposed to believe that your attitude is going to change that drastically in just a few weeks time? I feel like we're back at square one when I gave you the key to the apartment for the very first time, Cristina. We've been through so much, and still you can't trust me. You can't give of yourself in this relationship without me pushing you." He lectured her, pulling the box from her hand.

She opened her mouth in protest as he pulled it out of her hand and closed it, wondering to herself suddenly why she would protest him taking it from her.

Was this something she really wanted, and she was just denying herself?

He opened the lid to the box quietly, and sat it on the counter in front of her, his face sullen. "It's not what you think."

Her eyes fell upon a pair of small diamond earrings, and she let out a long exhale as she felt her face grow hot, "It's earrings."

"Yes. I got them for you for your first day back to work." He replied quietly, "I would say that you could've saved yourself a lot of trouble had you just opened it first, but I can't say that I'm sorry that you didn't. At least now I know how you truly feel."

He walked away from her, leaving the open box on the counter, "I trust you're driving your bike to work and that you don't need a ride?"

She looked to him, "It's raining."

"It's never stopped you before." He muttered, picking up his keys from the bureau.

She froze.

What was she supposed to say? 'I want to ride with you.' or 'I thought we could get coffee together?'

Finally she opened her mouth, "I don't want to ride in the rain. Just wait for me."

He shook his head, "Fine. Just hurry. I have things to do this morning."

She stalked out of the kitchen, angry with herself for overreacting, for being angry about a damn pair of earrings.

She pulled on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt as quickly as she could and dug around for a pair of shoes. She sat on his edge of the bed to pull her shoes on and her eyes fell upon the book he had bought so many months ago, 'Exploring Judiasm' and her heart sunk a little more.

He did so much for her, so much to get to know her, and she continually pushed him away, afraid to admit that she needed him as much as he needed her.

There were moments, where she would admit it, and usually it's just because he had her backed into a corner and she wanted to stun him to work her way out of it.

She continued to mentally beat herself up as she left the bedroom and found him standing by the counter, staring her down with a cold gaze. "I'm ready."

"Good." He muttered, walking away from her, "Tomorrow you're going to have to move faster, I have an early surgery."

He studied her expression to see if his words even affected her anymore.

She was such a mysterious creature to him, so fickle in her emotions and actions. One minute she was relying on him, turning over some amount of control to him. The next she was a free spirit, independent, unruly, and unmanageable.

"I'll be ready on time tomorrow. I was just..." Her voice trailed off, "Nevermind. Let's just go."

"Yes, lets." He replied, his voice short.

His pride injured.

His heart broken.

She watched as he walked out the door without her, and grabbed the earrings from the counter. Maybe if she wore them, she might partially redeem herself, though she had a feeling it was going to take a lot more than wearing jewelry to make him happy.

"I'm such an idiot." She muttered, following him out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

This was not a good way to start her first day back to work.


	29. Chapter 29

Cristina stepped into the pit and marveled at the flurry of activity surrounding her. It had been much to long since she'd been here and for a moment she doubted if she could handle being back after so long.

"Dr. Yang?" Bailey's voice seared through her thoughts, "Do you need a special invitation to your patient's bedside or are you going to get over here and get to work?"

She followed Bailey's words to her patient's bedside, "Jeremiah here is an Appy, and I'm sure you know what that means?"

"His appendix is secondary to a suspected viral infection by most theories, evidenced by an increased white count, high grade fever, and.."

"Yang. You are not an intern. He needs an appendectomy. Get him upstairs and get his appendix out before it ruptures."

Cristina blinked at Bailey, "Can...I...can I talk to you for a minute?" she stammered over her patient, "I'm sorry, Mr..."

"Thomas." The patient finished, glancing up to her. "Jeremiah Thomas."

"Mr. Thomas, we'll be right back."

The two walked towards the nurse's station, and Cristina could feel the heat raising from Bailey, "I'm sorry, but it's my first day back.."

"And what? You think I care. You're a second year resident, Dr. Yang. This is what you wanted, and second year residents pull out appendices, and gallbladders, and they do it without complaining. Are you complaining?" Bailey brought her hands to her hips.

"No, ma'am, it's just that I..." Her voice trailed off.

"You're what? Scared? There's no room to be scared, Dr. Yang. It's time for you to jump back in. Don't page me unless you kill him." Bailey snapped at her.

Cristina looked back over to the patient, her blood running cold as Bailey's words echoed through her, 'unless you kill him'. That's what she was afraid of.

Bailey lowered her voice, glancing around, "Look, Yang...I can't be easy on you. Especially..." She paused, taking heed the Chief's warning not to reveal the reason for her return, "Especially when you pushed so hard to come back...if you need help, you can page Dr. Grey."

Cristina let out a sigh, "Seriously? Dr. Grey. You want me to page the person..."

"Dr. Yang, if you need me, I'll be taking care of some more complex cases. Get an OR, get it out. Don't kill him." She interrupted and walked away without hearing her protests.

Cristina glanced over to her patient and faked a smile, "I'm going to book your OR right now, Mr. Thomas."

She put her hand over the phone, her heart racing and her chest tight, "This is Dr. Yang. I need an OR for an appy...OR1 with the gallery?...when?" She paused a moment, suddenly feeling lightheaded, "Now? Seriously?"

She sat the phone back into it's cradle, and looked to her patient, "I'm going to write the orders to get you upstairs, we're going now."

Cristina sank into the chair staring at the phone in front of her, debating on whether or not she would need Meredith on this.

What was the chief expecting? Did he want her to kill a patient, did he want to break her spirit, tear down her resolve and have her give into being the second best.

Someone who had to page another doctor for such a simple procedure?

Somebody just average and not good enough to be in the program?

Cristina stood from the desk and left the ER towards the scrub room. She was not average, she was not second best.

She would not need Meredith Grey for this.

Cut. Suture. Close.

That's all there was to it. She'd cut open the patient, visualize the peritoneum, find the appendix, clamp, cut, pull the purse strings, careful not to tear the secum, and close.

It was simplistic, almost kindergarten.

She paused at the OR board and looked to OR 1 as her patient was pushed past her and pride swelled in her heart as she saw her name as the resident on the board.

This was her prize, this was her life, this is what she'd worked for and given so much up to obtain. She wasn't going to deny herself of this.

However, as she reached the scrub room, and nausea washed over her as the smell of the scrub solution assaulted her. She pulled a mask quickly over her face and grabbed a suture packet, but paused for a moment, her mind lingering to the box that lay in her pocket.

"Are you ready, Dr. Yang?" A scrub nurse interrupted her thoughts, "The patient is almost prepped."

"I'll be ready momentarily. Do I have an intern?"

"No interns available, I'll be assisting you today."

"Okay, I'll be in there in a moment."

The scrub nurse disappeared and she pulled the box out of her pocket and put in the new earrings that he'd bought her before scrubbing.

A little luck couldn't possibly hurt.

She scrubbed the dirt off of her hands, as well as the emotions out of her mind, each stroke of her brush, each pass washing away doubt, insecurity, self-loathing, fear, anger.

Dr. Cristina Yang walked from the scrub room and into her OR, as she was met with a sterile towel and dressed in a sterile gown, then her hands moved into sterile gloves.

It was a dance she'd longed to do for many months, and she was finally here. She'd arrived.

She could hear a flurry of activity from the gallery and glanced up to see everybody there waiting to see her work.

Her eyes met with Burke's who was quietly tucked into the corner, his expression unreadable.

She would have to talk to him later.

She rounded the table and made a gesture that she'd seen Burke make her first day in the gallery to shut up her audience. If they were going to be there, they were going to be there on her rules.

"Ten blade." She commanded, taking the cold steel in her hand and making her initial incision into her patient's abdomen.

As blood seeped from the incision, she felt satisfaction as she made it deeper. This was what she was meant to do.

This is where she was meant to be, who she was meant to be.

A surgeon.

She glanced up to Burke, proud of her work and her heart sank momentarily. If this was who she was, and where she was supposed to be. Where did he fit in?

She couldn't imagine life without him.

"Cautery."

Smoke rose before her as she burned through layers of fat and muscle, burning off capillary bleeders.

As the appendix made itself apparent, her confidence level was at it's peak. "Suction, and I need some 2.5 proline, people."

Her needle was handed to her and this was the moment she'd waited for as she sutured the beginning of her purse strings before setting it to the side and clamping at the proximal end of the appendix with a hemostat and removing it.

She dropped the anatomy into a sterile pan with a clang, and pulled the purse strings closed, and knotted them, then looked to the audience in the gallery, "The appendix is out."

She'd gotten it out.

As she closed her patients, she could virtually hear the whispers ceasing, the rumors being disproved.

Cristina Yang was back.


	30. Chapter 30

"Nice surgery, Dr. Yang." Richard Webber commented dryly, staring at his OR board, "I see you have another Appy at 10, and a small bowel resection with Dr. Grey at 2."

At first she was pleased, but when she heard she was with Grey, her attitude changed, "I can't do a small bowel resection..." Her voice grew quiet, "You want me to walk into an OR with that woman?"

"Dr. Grey is our best resident here at Seattle Grace, Dr. Yang." He turned to face her, "You would do well to remember that."

As he walked away she pressed her lips together, shuddering at the very thought of her being outdone by Meredith.

There was only one way that she was going to get the title back, and that was to outshine, outdo, and outwork Meredith in every way possible.

Which meant less time for Burke.

She hated that she had to take away from him to get her life back, to get her position back, but she secretly swore to herself that she'd make it up to him as soon as she was the best resident at Seattle Grace again.

Just as she was secretly swearing to herself, his hand caught her arm and pulled her down the hall and into a corner, "Bailey told you that you could page Dr. Grey...why did you do that alone?"

She looked to him, her brow furrowed, "Excuse me, that was textbook. I didn't need Meredith for that."

"You weren't ready to fly solo, Cristina...don't be stupid. These are people you're suturing now, not bananas, not mannequins. Human beings with heart beats." He lectured, pulling his glasses from his face.

"Obviously I was. And don't talk to me about not being ready to fly solo, because I think we both remember what happened the last time that one of us decided we were ready before we really were." She snapped, then looked away in shame.

She'd regretted it the second she said it, her mouth hanging open, but no words coming out.

"I'm glad to know how you feel, Dr. Yang." He nodded, and brushed past her.

She lunged towards him, grabbing his arm, "Burke, I...I didn't mean it like that."

"I know exactly how you meant it, Dr. Yang. If you don't mind I have some patients to see, and I'm sure you do as well." He pulled his arm away and left her standing alone in the corner.

"Dammit." she muttered, and made her mind up that she'd go the other way, she'd talk to him tonight.

Her pager went off and she glanced down at it to see it was the recovery wing's extension and her blood ran cold.

What if Burke was right?

What if she didn't do something right, what if she wrote the orders wrong. Her mind raced as she picked up pace towards the wing, breaking out in a near run. She rounded the corner into the wing, and found Debbie, "I was paged. Is my patient..."

"Your patient is fine, Dr. Yang. I didn't page you." Debbie lowered her voice, "It was her.", her finger motioning to Meredith.

"Are you serious?"

"Seriously." Debbie smiled, and turned away, a newfound respect for Cristina after her accident and recovery.

Cristina straightened her coat and approached Meredith, determined to be professional and cold, not even giving the slightest hint that she was upset with her, or that she was going to put her to shame. "Dr. Grey, you paged."

"Cristina..."

"I would prefer if we stuck to titles, Dr. Grey, anything else would be considered unprofessional." Cristina interjected, before allowing her to continue.

"Dr. Yang. I was wondering if you're okay for the bowel resection this afternoon. I saw on the board that you have an appy, and I just want to make sure that you're not going to be..."

"Going to be what? Tired? Exhausted? I don't think so. I'll see you this afternoon if that is all that you need."

"No, I just wanted to tell you that I saw your appy this morning...it was really great, Cristina. I'm glad to see you can take the shots they throw at you." She nodded, "You're going to make it, and I have no doubt in my mind."

Cristina picked a chart from the rack for her next patient and looked at Meredith, "I can take anything that anybody throws at me. It's just too bad that I got a lot more thrown at me than you got thrown at you."

She walked away from Meredith, chart in her hand, assured that her words had cut her straight to the bone.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and smiled. Only 6 hours until she'd walk into that small bowel resection.

She was ready.

Meredith Grey was going down.


	31. Chapter 31

Cristina stood poised across the table from Meredith, a cold glint in her eyes, slicing through Meredith more effectively than a 10 blade. "We can salvage her bowel, Dr. Grey."

"There's no way to salvage this, Dr. Yang. She needs a colostomy."

"What she needs is the necrotized tissue removed and a near and far suture to pull the rest of it together and finish it up with some mattress suturing. She'll be on NG suction for 14 days, the bowel will heal and she'll be able to defecate in a toilet like the rest of us. Or is that too much time for you?" She argued angrily, "Because if it is, I'll do it for you."

Meredith let out a sigh, puffing out the face of her surgical mask, "I don't know how to mattress suture good enough to reconstruct her bowel, Cristina, and you know it." she hissed low enough that Cristina could only be the one to hear her.

Cristina smiled behind her mask, Meredith was making this too easy for her, "I'll take over, Grey. Just say the words."

Meredith cleared her throat, "I think that the best way to proceed would be a colostomy, Dr. Yang. There's less risk of complication."

"There's a greater risk of complication if you give the patient a colostomy and then go to do a takedown later. She's 74. More surgeries make for a greater risk of dementia, pneumonia and long term complications." Cristina argued.

"Do not argue with me on this, Dr. Yang. This is my patient. This is my surgery."

Cristina glared at her as the words slipped through Meredith's lips, anger pulsating through her body, "Fine. Then you do it."

"Dr. Yang."

Cristina moved from her side of the table to Meredith's side, "I need some 3.0 proline, please."

The surgical nurse looked to Meredith, then to Cristina, unmoving, her eyes widened as if she was a deer caught in the headlight.

"Do it." Cristina snapped at the nurse then turned to Meredith, "You may not know how to do it well, but you're going to do it, and you're going to spare this patient a life of having to disguise a bag on her abdomen that has feces in it if I have to walk you through it step by step."

Meredith squinted her eyes, trying to read Cristina, trying to understand her motive and finally let out a long sigh, "3.0 proline."

"Start at the distal end of the bowel at the interior portion, thread your needle through and move to the medial bowel, bring it through the interior portion as well, now pull the sections together, don't pull at the bowel too hard, you need it to remain open to work with." She paused, allowing Meredith to follow her instructions, watching carefully over her shoulder.

"Go on." Meredith's voice was softer, almost sad in a way.

"Work from the surface of the bowel, alternating deep and shallow stitches every other stitch, all the way around the circumfrence of the bowel, then do a near and far around your connecting sections of the bowel to pull it all together."

Meredith worked slowly, her hands exploring new maneuvers nervously as Cristina stood over her shoulder, watching her every move.

"You're done." Cristina muttered, and walked away from her, leaving the surgery.

"Sam, close up for me." She called to one of her interns as she followed Cristina into the scrub room. "I need to talk to you. You need to talk to me. This is ridiculous, Cristina...you can't sit here and show me up in my own OR."

Cristina turned to face her, "Excuse me? I just saved that patient from another surgery. Trust me, if I was trying to show you up in your own OR, you'd know it." She paused for a moment as she pulled her surgical mask from her face, "It must be nice?"

"What's nice?"

"Being the new shoo-in for Chief Resident. Taking everything that I worked hard for because my mother isn't a famous surgeon, taking all the hard work and time that I put in to get where I was and destroying it. Taking it over."

"Do you think that's what I wanted to do?" Meredith questioned, pulling her own mask from her face, "Do you think I did it on purpose?"

"Anybody with any kind of testicular fortitude would've left the program knowing that they'd effectively destroyed their best friend's life and career."

"Your life isn't destroyed. You've got Burke, you're back here at work, what's destroyed?"

"This...this is destroyed. I'm reduced to being your assistant in an OR, I'm no longer the best, only a burden to this hospital because I won't take no for an answer."

"Do you want me to say you're the best?" Meredith questioned frantically, "Is that what you want? Because you're best, Cristina, you always have been."

"Not in the eyes of Dr. Webber, not in the eyes of Dr. Bailey...but I will be the best again."

"Is that why made it point to exhibit my weaknesses in the OR? To be the best again?"

Cristina scoffed at her, "No. That's just good medicine." She moved closer to her old friend so their faces were inches apart, "Rest assured, Meredith. I will take back my position as the best, but I won't have to make your weaknesses known to do it."

Meredith crossed her arms over her chest, fury building within her, "Since when has the great Cristina Yang cared about patients?"

"Since I've been one." She shot back and walked from the scrub room, leaving the words to tear through Meredith.

A/N: Okay, I know I promised two, but it's 12:33 in the morning, and I have to be up in 4 and a half hours for work, so I hope I'm excused. :)


	32. Chapter 32

Burke looked up from his paperwork for only a moment as Cristina slid into his office, offering her a cold glance, before going back about scribbling some notes.

"Hello to you, too." She mumbled, sitting on the edge of his desk.

"You're going to crinkle my papers."

She stood up and moved to the other side of him, where the desk was empty and positioned herself there instead, knowingly pushing his buttons, trying to get him to talk to her.

"There are chairs, Cristina."

"There are." She noted, "What are they for, Burke?"

He looked up to her and couldn't help but let a small smile creep across his lips, "We sit in chairs...correction, I sit in chairs. You sit on everything."

"Everything?" She questioned, a wicked glisten in her eye.

He put his pen down, "What are you doing? Because last time we talked, I thought you were reminding me of our past digressions, and we were angry at each other?"

"Well, I wasn't trying to make you angry." Cristina's way of apologizing.

"Well, you were being irresponsible with that first patient of yours. But I did hear about your second and third surgeries..."

"And?" She tilted her head to the side, as if straining to hear his words.

"I'm proud of you. You've done what you set out to do." He rose so that he was standing in front of her. "I'm sorry I doubted you, but I would've preferred that you used some extra help."

"I didn't need it. I even showed Grey how to put a bowel back together and saved her poor patient another surgery in the process." Cristina grinned, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You told her what to do in her own OR?" Burke raised an eyebrow, preparing to give her a lecture about how she needed to control herself, even if it was Meredith Grey.

"I wasn't showing her up in her own OR, Burke. I was doing it for the patient, I promise you."

"Okay, then."

He studied her for just a moment, and found relief in the fact that she looked healthy, not exhausted or worn out from her first day back, she looked like his old Cristina. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair back from her face and kissed her softly, "I missed having you here at work, just seeing you always made my day easier."

Cristina, not knowing what to say, opted to move her hair back, revealing the earring he'd bought her, "I put them on before my first surgery. I didn't need help, because..." Her voice trailed off.

How cheesy.

"I was there."

She nodded, "Yeah. You were."

He pulled her down from the desk, wrapping his arms tight around her waist, "I have paperwork to finish, and I'm sure that you do too, but after that, why don't we go to Andaluca and celebrate?"

She traced a finger over his name on his lab coat, avoiding his glance, "I can't."

He let go of her and tipped her chin up so that she'd face him, "And why not?"

"I'm on call...tonight." She mumbled low, still avoiding his glance.

"Cristina!" He sighed, walking away from her, "It's your first day back, you had three successful surgeries today, it's enough. You've already proven yourself to so many, why do you have to push it?"

"Because, the one person who matters the most doesn't think I'm the best!" She argued, turning away from him.

"And who, in your mind is the one person who matters the most?" He questioned, turning her around, "Who's opinion matters more than mine?"

She studied him quietly, her gaze finally meeting his, and her heart ached over the words she'd said merely moments ago. Thinking before speaking had never been her strong point, especially when it came to Burke.

"Burke, that's not what I meant." She finally sighed, "You know that's not what I meant."

"Then please, explain yourself, because I'd like to know when I'm going to stop being second on your list of priorities, or even if I'm going to stop being second, because I can't do this forever." He grasped her shoulders firmly, his lips pressed together in frustration.

Cristina opened her mouth, trying to find words to reassure him, trying to find a way to tell him that he wasn't second, but as she searched she came to realize that she didn't have any.

Surgery was her first priority right now.

Her career was her first priority.

"I...I have to go. I need to do my paperwork and try to get some rest. I'll be home tomorrow night." She pulled from his grasp and left him standing in his office alone.

A second priority.


	33. Chapter 33

It had been days since she'd been home, she thought to herself. It had been days since she'd talked to him for more than just a few seconds, and it had been days since she'd last told him that she loved him. That she cared about him.

Reassured him that in some way that he was still a very important part of her life.

She rolled over in the call room bed and put her feet up so that they were flush against the bunk above her and let out a long sigh.

Cristina had been very successful over the past few days. She'd worked 3 call shifts in a row, just happened to be 'walking out of the pit' when three surgical cases had come in on different days, and now here she was again today.

Another day where she could go home, let Burke know that he was the only one for her or some sort of mushy crap that she wasn't good at, and possibly sleep in her own bed, or she could sit here and wait for the next surgery.

Wait for the chance, the moment that Webber would recognize that she was once again the best, and that Meredith would concede under those crushing words.

She would talk to Burke now.

She'd gotten here by herself, she'd made her way back to the hospital under her determination with only a little for him, why should she drag him through the rest of the journey.

She flipped open her phone and punched in the numbers to his cell phone and listened for his voice on the other side of the phone, and a smile spread across her face when he actually answered, "Hi."

"Cristina? Where are you?" He questioned, knowing exactly where she was.

"I...uh.." She stammered for words, "I'm busy. I just wanted to call and say hi."

What she didn't know was that he was standing on the other side of the call room door, it wasn't ever hard to figure out which call room she was in, because she typically only slept in that one if it wasn't occupied, and he was pretty damn sure she'd taken up residence there.

He jiggled the handle and found that it was locked and she yelled at the door, "Get a different one."

She paused when she heard herself through his phone, "There's some...funny feedback or something on my phone."

"Cristina, open the door." He finally sighed, hanging up the phone on her and waiting for her to open the door.

The door clicked open and she peered through the bright light at him, "What are you doing?"

"I should ask you the same, because you don't look very busy to me." He remarked dryly as he brushed past her to enter the room.

"I was just getting ready to go.."

"To sleep. To work. To do anything that doesn't involve going home, coming home with me. To me." He finished her sentence, sliding off his shoes.

"What are you doing?"

"If you can't come home and come to bed with me, I'm staying here with you tonight." He replied, pulling his shirt over his head and laying it on the bunk above them.

"You're going to stay here with me? Tonight? All night?" She questioned, a bemused grin on her face.

"What? Am I not allowed to see you? I might be second on your list of priorities, but you continue to be my first, at the moment."

"At the moment?"

"I told you that I can't be second on your list of priorities forever, Cristina. Now lay down, I'm tired." He flipped off the light behind him.

She slid into the bunk, and turned towards him as he laid down beside her, "You're not second."

"Well, I'm certainly not first, so am I third now?" He remarked, his eyes closed.

"Burke." She chided lightly, running a finger over his lips longingly. "Don't be like that."

It was only automatic for him to kiss her finger as she toyed with him, "You first."

She studied him silently, as he lay with his eyes closed, as if he didn't even want to look at her and she felt hurt inside. She continued to trace her fingers down his chin to his chest, trying to get him to open up his eyes and look at her, to say something to her. To show her some sort of affection other than an errant kiss to a fingertip.

"Will you quit acting like that if I come home with you tonight?" She whispered through the dark.

Cristina could see his eyes open through the glow from under the door and she smiled to herself and kissed him lightly on his chin, "Made you look." She teased.

But he closed his eyes again, "Cristina, just roll over and go to sleep, I just want to sleep with you."

She paused for a moment, and rolled over, pressing her body against his as his arm draped itself across her waist and his chin found its way to the crook between her shoulder and neck. "Goodnight, baby." She mumbled, then bit her lip for a moment, lowering her voice. "I do love you."

He pondered her words for a long moment, considering how to move forward with them, the things that he could say to make her think, to make her realize that he was all she truly needed and that friends, her career, money, was all just details, that what they had was the big picture.

He shifted in bed, so that she was even closer to her, his arm wrapping tightly around her body, and he moved his lips to her ear, causing her to shiver slightly, "You love me?" He whispered into her ear, then kissed her neck gently, momentarily intoxicated by her.

"Yeah, I do." She mumbled, letting herself fall into him.

He stopped, and nestled his chin back into her shoulder, "Then prove it."


	34. Chapter 34

He woke up, and she was gone.

Burke wasn't surprised.

He pulled himself out of the bed and reached for his shirt, finding a small yellow sticky note on top.

'B-

There was a surgery.

I'm on the call schedule tonight and tomorrow.

I'll come home on Friday.

I promise.

-C'

He rolled the note in his hand and threw it into the trashcan, then pulled on his shirt. "Two years..." he muttered under his breath, grasping his phone from his pocket and dialing her, only to receive her voicemail.

At least she was really in a surgery today.

He took in a breath before he spoke, taking a moment to contemplate his words, "Cristina, you need to get the night off. Trade with somebody, tell them you're not feeling well. Something. But you need to come home tonight." He paused for a moment, "You need to come home." He repeated emphasizing the word need before hanging up his phone as if it were a threat.

Maybe in his heart, it was.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Dr. Yang." Bailey nodded at her as Cristina studied the board, "You've got a busy board today, why don't you let Dr. Grey take a surgery?"

Cristina held up a finger at Bailey, "I'm sorry, just a moment." Her eyes traveled over the board and she smiled to herself with satisfaction.

It had only taken a week for Meredith's name to be cleared from the board and for hers to be plastered all over it.

She was back, and she was already the best, once again.

"Sure. You can give Dr. Grey that small bowel resection at 2:00." She offered to Bailey, and spun on her heel to leave.

"Yang." Bailey called after her, following her towards the nurses station.

Cristina spun to face her, "Yeah, Dr. Bailey?"

"You need to let up."

"Excuse me, I'm sorry I don't know what you're talking about." Cristina picked up a chart on her next patient and scanned over the orders.

"You need to let up. You're pushing too hard. You've got your name on that board all over the place, you've put in way too many call hours, and you've got your job back. What else is there for you to do?"

Cristina looked at Bailey and realized that this was Bailey the mother, and not Bailey the Nazi, and silently wished it was the latter rather than the former.

She thought for a moment, and looked to the board, then back to Bailey, "Who's in the running for chief resident?"

Bailey looked bewildered for a moment, "Cristina, that's another four and a half years down the road, why does it matter?"

"Okay, let me ask you this...six months ago, who was a shoo-in for Chief resident, despite the length of time in the future it was?"

Bailey pressed her lips together, "I don't understand where you're going with this."

"She was the shoo-in...six months ago." Meredith interrupted, "And now I am...because I nearly killed her in an accident. So now, I'm the best. Or it's starting to look like I was the best, considering that I have no surgeries today, and that I had no surgeries yesterday. I have to pilfer from her."

Cristina crossed her arms in satisfaction, the corners of her lips curling into a cocky and malicious smile. "That's why I push."

Bailey shook her head and walked away, "You need to organize your priorities Yang." she muttered behind her.

It was a verbal slap in the face, it hadn't been the first time she'd heard it recently, and she was instantly reminded of the guilt she felt as she slipped from Burke's arms earlier in the morning to go check out the surgery board.

"You can take the resection at 2:00, Dr. Grey." She finally muttered, replacing the chart in the chart rack and looking to her.

Meredith nodded, and picked up an Expo marker to write in her name, "I'm transferring programs."

Cristina raised an eyebrow in question as she watched her write her name in on the board, "What program are you transferring to?"

"Mercy West." Meredith replied quietly, setting the marker back in it's place and looked at her.

"Mercy West is for doctors that graduated from medical school in Mexico." Cristina scoffed, "Why are you transferring to Mercy West?"

"Because I can't keep turning down surgeries so that you can get them." She replied quietly, "I can't stop trying just so you can be the best again."

Cristina swallowed hard at her words and narrowed her eyes, "You've been turning down surgeries so that I could get them?"

Meredith nodded quietly, avoiding her gazes, "That's what you wanted it, wasn't it?"

"I want to be the best again. I want to be the shoo-in for Chief resident." Cristina sighed, "That's what I want. And I don't want it given to me."

"It was given to me after the accident." Meredith sighed, "I was trying to give it back. If that's what it would take for you to forgive me, and at least try to remember that at some point, you were my sister, then that's what I'm willing to do."

Deep within herself, Cristina felt a shift from loathing and disdain to one of guilt and admiration bound into one. Then came foolishness, she felt foolish for ever believing that it would only take one week for her to climb back on top of the dog pile. For her to be the best again. Then came shame.

Perhaps she'd punished her old friend long enough.

"You can't go to Mercy West." Cristina mumbled, picking up an Expo marker from the tray and advancing towards the surgery board that was wrongfully plastered with her name all over it.

"Why?"

"Because I want to beat you fair and square. Now which of these surgeries do you want?"

"You don't have to give me the surgeries back."

"Which ones do you want before I change my mind?" Cristina snapped lightly.

"I want the appy...and the gallbladder." Meredith pointed out surgeries on the board, then stopped to pause at Cristina. "You're better at them."

Cristina flashed her a genuine smile, "I know."


	35. Chapter 35

Cristina slammed her cell phone shut as she advanced towards the Chief's office, her blood boiling.

What right did he have to threaten her with what she took to be their relationship? What right did he have to use that tone with her on a voicemail?

She had her doubts about her working so much, and what it would do to their relationship, but she was also sure that he'd understand that she needed to get her life back before she could do anything.

He'd stuck by her while she earned her way back into the hospital, why the hell could he just wait while a little longer while she earned her way back to the top?

"Ass." she muttered walking into Webber's office then cleared her throat before speaking, "Chief, I need to see if there is somebody I can switch my schedule with tonight...who's available?"

"Dr. Yang, if you're on the call schedule, then you're on the call schedule. There's no switching." He replied, his eyes falling on her in a heavy glare.

"What do you mean there's no switching? People switch all the time." She argued, "I have to go home. Burke wants me to come home."

"Well, you want to be here. He should've thought about that." He muttered, looking back towards his paperwork, silently cursing himself for letting anything slip.

"He should've thought about that?" She repeated, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I meant you, Yang. It's been a long day, and I'm not going to argue with you. You're staying, end of discussion."

"Yes, sir." She sighed, and left the office, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind at his words, but pushed it away as she dialed Burke and waited patiently for him to answer.

She withdrew slightly at the anger in his tone as he answered his phone, "Hello." It was a statement, a forced formality.

"I can't come home tonight." She sighed into the phone.

"I can't do this anymore."

"Burke, I tried...I talked to everybody, Webber, Bailey...I tried to come home, I promise."

"Just like you promised that you'd marry me after you got back to work, right?" He shot back at her.

"After a few weeks." She protested, "I said after a few weeks."

"It's been two weeks, Burke. That's all it's been..."

"And you're pushing yourself farther and father away from me. This is why I didn't want you to go back to work so soon, because I knew this would happen." He muttered, fighting the urge to hang up his phone.

"What does you wanting me not go back to work have anything with me actually getting to go back to..." Her voice trailed off. "Burke...what did you do?"

He froze, leaving an eerie silence over the phone momentarily, "I don't know what you're talking about."

She clicked the phone shut and stormed back towards Webber's office, dread growing deep within her as she walked in, "Why did you let me come back?"

He looked up from his papers, "Because you asked me to."

"Wrong. Why did you let me come back?" She pressed.

"I let you come back, what does it matter, Dr. Yang?" Webber sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose gently.

"Because you weren't going to let me. I heard you tell Patricia you didn't want to see my file. That you didn't want to hear about me until after the new batch of interns were up...what the hell made you call me back?" She was boiling over with undirected anger.

He rose from his seat and placed his hands on his hips, "You need to leave my office and get back on the floor, now, Dr. Yang, before I change my mind."

She pressed her lips together and left the office, bursting into Patricia's office instead, going straight for file cabinets next to her desk.

"Dr. Yang?" Patricia questioned, standing from her desk, "You can't get in there..."

"Watch me." Cristina mumbled, looking for the 'Y's and pulling her file from the drawer as Webber followed her into the office.

"Put that file back, Cristina." Webber threatened.

"Then tell me why I'm back in this hospital when you were so vehemently against it." She held up the file in front of him, and a paper slid out from it, her eyes following it to the ground.

She crouched to the ground, picking it up, and reading it, her blood running cold.

It was a resignation letter from Burke.

"Patricia...I told you to shred that." Webber hissed at his assistant.

She shot him a look and then looked back to Cristina, quietly, taking the letter from her hands and helping her rise to her feet, "He wanted you to come back to work, Cristina." She spoke quietly, pulling the file from her frozen hands, "He wanted you to have your life back, and since Dr. Webber was so stubborn and bullheaded, it was the only thing he could do for you."

Cristina nodded, her expression blank, unable to speak.

"We'll find somebody to cover your call schedule tonight, Dr. Webber and I...you need to go home."

Cristina finally found her footing and looked up to Patricia, "No...I'll be staying here tonight. Thank you. For telling me the truth."

She brushed past her, and looked to Webber, "Do you want me here?"

"I would not expect you to leave now, if that is what you are asking. You've proven yourself, Dr. Yang."

She shook her head, "Okay then."

As Cristina walked from the office she felt numb, broken. He let her believe that she'd worked her way back to the hospital by herself, he let her believe that she could do everything on her own, when the truth was that she was weak.

He carried her the whole way.

He taught her sutures, he got her job back, he paid her bills.

She didn't do any of it by herself.

Her phone rang interrupting her already disjointed thoughts and she glanced down at it to see that it was Burke calling her and shoved the phone back in her pocket, working her way back towards the surgical unit.


	36. Chapter 36

Burke paced through their living room, trying to burn of nervous anger for her blowing him off once again. He knew that he couldn't ever leave her, or give up on her.

But it sure as hell didn't mean that he couldn't be angry with her.

He glanced up to the clock once again, and it was 8:15, only 3 minutes later than the last time he'd looked at the clock.

Bailey said she'd gotten the night off, but she still wasn't home.

She was pushing him away once again.

He came to rest on the counter, leaning over it, his face buried in his hands in frustration. He had to figure out a way to make her happy, to make her stop acting as if they had just started dating all over again.

He looked up as he heard her keys jingle against the door lock, and his resolve melted away.

She came home.

Cristina threw open the door of their apartment as forcefully as she could without putting a whole in the wall and tossed her keys to the bureau, "Have you seen my overnight bag?" She questioned angrily.

"It's in the closet." Burke replied, looking at her curiously, "Why?"

His heart sank when he realized that she wasn't happy to be there, and he found himself coming to the distinct impression that she wasn't going to be there long.

"Because I'm leaving." She called behind her, stalking into the bedroom after the bag, her only goal to get in and out in as much time as possible.

To cause as little pain as possible in the process.

"Whoa, whoa...what's going on?" He grabbed her arm as she went to pull the closet door open, "Cristina. Talk to me."

She jerked her arm away and pulled the bag from the closet floor, "You went to Webber."

He froze, fear painting itself over her expression, unable to speak.

"You went to Webber." She continued, repeating herself, "And told him that you were going to quit if he didn't give me back my job, if he didn't cave into your demands. And then you let me think that I'd done it all by myself. You'd let me think that I earned my way back into the hospital."

Her voice was rising to a yell, and her eyes glistened with tears of anger, "How could you do this to me? I worked so hard, and I believed...I believed that I could do it by myself, despite everything that had happened.." her voice trailed off.

"Cristina, you did it by yourself." He argued, "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I didn't want you to know."

"So you wanted to lie to me? To make me believe that it was all better? That I had recovered all by myself without help?" She questioned angrily.

"It's okay to have help, Cristina. You're being irrational."

"I'm being irrational?" She brushed past him into the bathroom, grabbing up her toothbrush and comb, and a few other things, jamming them into the bag, "You lied to me."

"I didn't lie to you."

"You withheld the truth." She snapped.

He backed down, recognizing his own words from so very long ago, "I just wanted you to be happy, and obviously, I'm not enough to do that."

She picked up her bag and looked at him, "You took away my independence. You made me think I did something that I obviously wasn't capable of. By doing that? You hurt me more than Meredith ever could have."

"And what about the hurt you've caused me?" He sputtered, "The nights alone, you disappearing, the avoidance. We've been together for two and half years, Cristina. Two and a half years of me chasing you, catching you, losing you and chasing you all over again. Two and a half years of you pushing me away while I was pulling you to me. What about the hurt that you've caused me."

"So what, we're even? Hardly. You know how important..."

"How important surgery is to you. Of course, how could you let me forget?" He interrupted her.

She stood there with her mouth opened in protest, then finally closed her mouth, letting out a long sigh, "This...this was a huge mistake. On both of our parts. Mine mostly, I guess. I'm sorry, Burke..."

She felt the words coming from in between her lips, but couldn't believe that she was saying them.

"A mistake?"

"I think it'd be best if..." She couldn't finish the sentence. "It'd just be for the best."

She walked from the room and grabbed her keys from the bureau, as she pulled the door open, an 'I love you' nearly escaped her lips, but she caught it.

She couldn't love him anymore.


	37. Chapter 37

Burke had inundated himself with work.

Doing anything he could do to keep his mind off of Cristina, to keep himself from chasing her down, for making allowances for her behaviors.

He just couldn't do it anymore, but in the same aspect he needed closure.

His eyes traced over the names on the boards, and hers was everywhere. OR 1 at 10, 0R 3 at 1, OR 2 at 3. And for every surgery he had, it seemed that hers were right next door.

Every time he saw her, she would run the other way, every time he approached her, she would dodge his conversations by being 'paged' or needing to make a phone call.

He was a little more surprised as she came up next to him, pretending to peruse her schedule, a frightened looking intern in tow.

Her gaze fell to him, lingered a moment and went back to the board, "It's a good board." She mumbled low.

He looked to her and cleared his throat, his eyes questioning if he was going to finally get his opportunity to speak.

"Dr. Bryant, go prep our first patient." She was stern. Cold.

"I see that you're terrorizing your very own intern now." He observed, a smirk upon his face.

"Yeah. It's fun. I don't understand why you ever quit." She said the words, she went through the motions, but she didn't feel anything except for numbness.

"Because I met one that stole my heart, and I couldn't bring myself to do it anymore." He replied turning to face her.

"Not here, Burke..." She shook her head at him, "Not here."

"Then where?" He moved closer to her so that nobody else would hear their conversation. "Because we need to talk about this. We need to figure things out."

She looked around them and saw that the resident's work room behind the nurse's station was open, "Follow me."

He did as she requested as the two of them ducked into the resident's workroom.

She turned to face him after building up a steely resolve in her eyes, doing her best to push him away, "We work together."

"You're observant."

"We work together and we will for at least the next four and a half years unless you plan on going somewhere?"

"I'm not leaving Seattle Grace." He confirmed her statement. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just saying we work together. We can't be all bitter, and we can't act like we hate each other, because people are just going to talk more, and we don't need that." She rambled. "We just can't act like this." She motioned to the two of them.

"What am I supposed to do, Cristina? You walked out of our home. You walked out on our relationship. And why? Because I did what I had to do to get your job back, to make you happy. I was making sacrifices for you." He tried to contain his voice as he felt that familiar frustration building within him.

"About that, I appreciate that you did it and all, really, I do...but can we not talk about it? Please."

"Why? What's wrong with me bring up the fact that I'm willing to support you, to give whatever it takes to make you happy?" He argued, raising his hands to his hips as he often did when he was frustrated.

"Because it's a reminder to me of how pathetic I am, that my boyfriend had to go and get my job back for me. That I couldn't do it on my own." She shook her head, "You don't get it do you?"

"No, Cristina, two and half years of being with you, and I still don't get it, I guess. I've told myself, 'maybe it's because her mother ignored her, or maybe it's because she didn't have anybody to count on' but even after two and half years later, I think it's just that you don't want to be helped, you don't want to be loved." He took pause of the moment, moving closer to her, "But somehow, despite all of that, I love you, and I'll never stop."

She crossed her arms over her chest, "I hurt you, Burke. I said things that I never meant to push you away, and you still come back. Wouldn't that make anybody else just stop and think for a minute that I'm not worth it?"

"You're always worth it." He protested.

"I'm not worth the heartache. Go find yourself a girl that wants children, that wants to be domesticated. One that won't make you feel like you're romantically inept, because you're not. Just...give up on me."

"I'll never give up on you, because I know that you still love me." He reached down and brushed his lips against hers, hungry for just a taste, longing to give her a reminder of why she loved him.

Cristina's hand met his cheek, and she fell deeper into his kiss, melting into his embrace. She allowed herself mere moments of happiness before she pulled away, shaking her head at him, "Burke, we can't do this."

She fled from the room, leaving him to ponder exactly what it was that he'd done to push her away again.

He looked out the doorway of the work room to see her standing at the nurse's station, looking back at him. "Come home."

"I can't." She smiled a soft, but sullen smile, "I've hurt you enough already."

She walked away from him, trying to drown out the thoughts in her head, drawing her back to him, trying to convince herself that she wasn't going to hurt him again, if she just gave it one more chance.

"I can't." She mumbled to herself one last time, before disappearing into the scrub room to prepare for surgery.


	38. Chapter 38

Things almost seemed to settle to normal over the following weeks, despite the fact that being apart from her was far from normal.

His apartment seemed emptier, though he'd ceased all effort to be a neat freak, his own way of making it seem as though she was still there with him. He had a box of things in his bedroom that belonged to her, but he refused to tell her that he had them, thinking that maybe somehow she might come to realize that they were missing and come home.

Even if just for a few moments.

She was busy on her GI rotation, and he barely saw her for more than a few moments at a time, but when they did, Burke would fake happiness for her as they exchanged professional tidings in the hallway towards each other, and listened quietly as she would question him about surgical complications.

His mind drifted to the only day, early on that he'd talked her into having lunch with her, thought the topic of conversation was just a particularly difficult patient that she'd had earlier that morning.

But it was all professional and despite the fact that he longed for more, he restrained himself.

He watched as she slowly started to become the best again, and he listened with pride as the rumors of her once again being the first choice for chief resident began to rumble throughout the hospital.

She was going to have everything she wanted in her life.

It broke his heart, however, to know he wasn't one of those things.

He laid his head in his hands, resolving himself to the fact that she didn't want him, making it his mantra that she didn't want him and that he needed to move on with his life, needed to forget that they had happened.

That Cristina had happened.

She interrupted his thoughts as she sauntered up to the nurse's station, two cups of coffee in hand, "For you. It's a cappuccino, since you can't drink real coffee." She joked lightly.

He took the drink from her tiny hand smiling, "And what's this for?"

"You can't tell me you haven't heard the latest news. You hear everything. You're too observant not to." She feigned surprise, knowing in her heart, he'd probably heard it a million times over.

"Of course I've heard, congratulations, Dr. Yang." He nodded, taking a sip of his drink, and rising from his seat.

She looked to him, her eyes widening a bit as he called her 'Dr. Yang'. It had such a bitter sound to it, so different from the way he said 'Cristina'.

She wanted to hear him say it again, "So...Burke. Do you have any cool surgeries today? I'm not very busy this afternoon with the holiday, and I'm aching to scrub in on a CABG."

"No, my schedule is clear, I'm sorry."

"Maybe tomorrow." She smiled, looking down to the shiny tiled floors, "I really miss cardiothoracics. I'll be on the rotation in a couple of months..."

"I'm off tomorrow, but as you said, Dr. Yang, you'll be on my rotation in a couple of months, and you'll be able to see all of the CABGs that you want."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." She mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

He looked to her with question in his eyes, and thought maybe for a moment that she was trying to pull something with him. But then he pushed the thought away. "Dr. Yang." He nodded walking away.

"Cristina." She replied.

He walked back to her, "I thought we were professionals?"

"You call Dr. Montgomery Addison. You call Dr. Stevens Izzie. Hell, you even call Dr. Grey Meredith. Why can't you call me Cristina?" She protested.

"Because I have never slept with them, I've never made love to them, I've never made them dinner, I didn't sit by their hospital bed for nearly two months and watch them literally come back from death's door, I've never thought of them as more than just colleagues. Cristina, on the other hand. I slept with her, I made love to her, I cooked her dinner. I was there to help her find her way back in the darkest of times, though she resents it now. She was more than a colleague, she was the woman I loved. I cannot call you Cristina, Dr. Yang, because you..." He made a motion to her, "Are not Cristina."

He walked away from her, leaving her to ponder his words. Part of him ached for her to come after him, to tell him that she was Cristina, but a growing part of him had come to accept that no matter what she would always be Dr. Yang.


	39. Chapter 39

Cristina felt his eyes follow her around the OR as she was dressed and her hands placed into sterile gloves, but she wouldn't look at him.

She felt his glares cut through her being as she cut into her patient's skin, but she couldn't acknowledge him.

He had deceived her.

_He wanted her to think she'd done it on her own. That she had earned it, though she knew that wasn't how medicine worked._

He'd blackmailed Webber so she could get her job back.

_He wanted her to be happy, and he'd was willing to pay any price to make her happy._

He'd taken away her independence.

_She needed him._

She felt her heart pulling at her mind, trying to tell her that he wasn't trying to hurt her as she pulled at her purse string sutures, her mind absently wandering over him until she felt a pop in her fingers.

She'd ripped the secum, the same thing she'd teased O'Malley about several times in their internship.

"I need lap pads and suction!" She commanded her OR, "Give me some 4.0 proline, I need irrigation..."

Cristina found herself grasping at orders, grasping for control, but she couldn't do it.

He did it for her.

"Dr. Yang...your clip?" The scrub nurse offered her, holding out surgical tools, as she grabbed at them, her hands trembling with trepidation.

"I need more suction, I can't see anything." She looked for only a moment to see that Burke was gone from the gallery, and focused on her patient. "More irrigation."

She needed him to still be there, she needed him to guide her, to help her along the way. Silently, she cursed herself as she thought about her foolishness, he was trying to help her, and she pushed him away.

She pushed him away when he was the one thing she had that was stable. That was sure.

Trying once again to focus on her patient, she fought through the waste that was leaking into her patient's body cavity trying to find the purse strings. "I can't find them, I still need suction."

"They're right there, Cristina." His voice invaded her thoughts as he stepped in behind her, watching over her shoulder.

She grabbed at the purse strings, clipping them with a hemostat, "Now what?" She questioned, as more suction was placed, trying to keep her surgical field clear.

"Examine the tear, what suture is best to fix it?" He mumbled, glancing for himself.

She looked into the body cavity and up to him in question.

"Do it, Dr. Yang." He nodded.

"I need some 4.0 proline, now." She ordered the scrub nurse. "More irrigation, more suction."

Her materials were handed to her and she took in a deep inhale before placing her needle in the secum to repair the damage she'd done.

"In and out, right, left, in and out, left, right." She heard him mumble into her ear, his words slightly muffled by the mask and she followed his rhythm. "There you go."

She performed the stitch 6 more times, and finally pulled the purse strings together gently, closing the tear in the secum. "Apply more suction. Let's see if we got her cleaned up." She nodded at her assist, applying lap pads gently to the cavity, clearing out the remaining waste.

"Beautiful work, Dr. Yang. She's clear." The scrub nurse nodded, "Are you ready to close?"

She nodded, "Yes, let's close." And the team around her began removing retractors and preparing her suture and dressing materials.

"Good work." Burke mumbled into her ear, and spun on his heel to leave her OR.

"Stay." She called after him, looking towards him with longing in her eye.

He looked back to her, his eyes connecting with hers and nodded slowly, "If you like, I don't have a surgery this morning."

She began to suture her incision, and he reached his hand in, keep her proline straight for her, watching carefully as she did a simple near and far stitch like she'd never stopped. "I need some hypafix, please."

The nurse passed her the hypafix and she pressed it gently against the fresh pink incision, a simple dressing to cover up a serious complication, that was fixed with a little extra work.

Surgery was amazing to her, because no matter what happened, no matter how serious things got, one of two things could happen. You could die, or you could get better. There was no Grey area, it was black and white.

"She's done." Cristina mumbled to her scrub nurse and walked into the scrub room, Burke following closely behind her. "Thank you...for helping me, with that, y'know."

He tugged at the strings on her gown, untying them for her, "You did a beautiful job, Dr. Yang." He nodded.

"Stop it." She snapped, "Stop calling me Dr. Yang, I'm not Dr. Yang, dammit...I'm Cristina. I'm your Cristina..." She stopped herself after saying the words, closing her mouth tight and looking away from him.

He took a step back, raising his hands, "I'm sorry, but the impression you left me with was that we were done, I was merely trying to be professional."

"I don't want you to be professional anymore." She sighed slamming her hands under the water, "I don't want this." She took deep breaths, squeezing her eyes tightly together, trying to hold back the rush of emotion that she felt just being in his presence after two weeks of being nothing more than professional colleagues, co-workers.

Cristina pulled her hands out of the water, not even pausing to grasp a handful of paper towels to dry her hands as she pushed her way out of the scrub room, running towards the call room as her emotions began to win.

He followed her, pressing the door open before she could put her weight against it and lock it, locking him out, "What do you want?" He questioned, "You're angry when I'm chasing you, trying to keep up with you, being what a good boyfriend should be, you're unhappy when we're apart, what do you want?"

She turned away from him as a tear slid down her cheek, afraid of what she was feeling, afraid of the things that she wanted, afraid of the fact that she actually realized that she needed him.

He placed his hands over her shoulders, pulling himself close to her and kissing the back of her forehead, "You have to want this too, Cristina." He mumbled, "I can't carry this relationship by myself, I can't go back to where we were."

Cristina took in a deep breath and wiped away the two tears that she had let fall from her eyes then faced him, "Then I guess there's only one answer. We have to get married or whatever."

He raised his eyebrow in question, "Seriously? Is that what you want?"

"Are you asking?" She shot back at him, trying to make him think it was his idea in this moment to ask her.

To give him control for a change, if even for a moment.

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, "Marry me."

It wasn't a question, but a statement, because he knew her answer.

Their lips met in a kiss that washed away the residual anguish and doubt, anger and sadness.

Cristina couldn't help but smile inwardly as she thought to herself that they had come full circle, that through all the complications, the pain, that they'd had a full recovery.

And that was all that anybody could ever ask for.


End file.
